


Controlling Disorder

by thethirstorder (KaiserPhoenix)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Anxious Hux, Blackmail, Body Image, Coercive Institutionalisation, Crying, Drug Use, Eating Disorders, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Lovers, Fainting, Food, Food Issues, Galactic politics, Gratuitious Descriptions of Hux Doing Things, Hand Feeding, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Illness, Mild Blood, PHASMA spoliers, Post-Canon, Self-Harm, Sexual Dysfunction, Slow Burn, Socially Anxious Kylo Ren, Starvation, The Force Ships It, Trust Issues, Vomiting, not TLJ compliant, weight loss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2018-08-14 15:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8019343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiserPhoenix/pseuds/thethirstorder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the destruction of Starkiller Base, General Hux finds himself falling into patterns of self-destruction he thought he left behind at the Academy. As Hux struggles to organise and host a summit of High Command, it becomes clear that old habits die hard, and that not even the most controlled of people can keep them secret.</p><p>Now with art for Chapters 1, 2, and 3!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Never Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Please understand that this is not a story about being thin. It’s a story about encountering failure — a failure so large that it makes you question your worth, your identity, and your capabilities. It’s about internalising these issues and taking it out on your body because you don’t believe you deserve anything else. There is discussion of body image and how that relates to the things I just described, but there’s so much more to it than that and I hope to do justice in writing about the resulting experience. In pursuit of this goal, I cannot impress it upon you enough that this fic is going to be **extremely** graphic and I encourage you to proceed with caution. Read all the tags and keep yourself safe  <3 
> 
> My characterisation of Hux in this fic is consistent with Hux in [Hold On, We’re Going Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7055254/chapters/16038622) and is set afterwards. You do not need to have read that fic in order to understand this one, but it delves deeper into some of the issues that I introduced there. 
> 
> **There's a massive content warning for in-depth depiction of anxiety and living with an eating disorder. This warning applies to the entire fic and will appear at the beginning of every chapter.**
> 
> If you or anyone you know is suffering from an eating disorder, I've listed some resources that may help. They are listed again at the end. Although some services are location-specific, many of them also offer information and remote support. I’m on [tumblr](http://thethirstorder.tumblr.com) and I’m available to talk and offer support in whatever way I can.
> 
> [National Eating Disorders Association](http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/) (NEDA)  
> [The National Association for Males with Eating Disorders](http://namedinc.org/) (NAMED)  
> [National Eating Disorder Information Centre](http://nedic.ca/) (NEDIC)  
> [Eating Disorder Hope](http://www.eatingdisorderhope.com/)  
> [Beat](http://www.b-eat.co.uk/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Update, Feb 26, 2017: I commissioned some art for this chapter and the next chapter. While there is nothing explicit, there is skeletal imagery, so please proceed wth caution. If there is anything else I can do to make your reading experience better or safer, please let me know.**

General Hux stood in front of the full-length mirror in the darkness of his quarters. He was completely naked, skin ghostly in the weak light of the stars outside the viewport. Hux didn't know how many hours have passed since he last ate or slept but he could count the years to the day since he last did _this_.

With both hands, Hux dragged his fingernails down the length of his chest, parting ways just above his waist and following the ripples of his ribs outward. Hux didn't draw blood but left red lines in his wake. He moved his hands lower, gliding down the taut skin of his sides. He grabbed the soft flesh over his stomach, digging his nails into it as though he could tear it right off with enough force. Hux felt the jut of his hipbones and gripped them tight, hard enough to bruise, like they could be sculpted under his hands.

He squeezed his hips harder, imagining — _wishing_ — that he could shatter his own bones and turn them to dust. He was desperate to feel _something_ but everything was numb after Starkiller. Hux clenched his teeth and blinked furiously, willing away the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. _Useless_ , said the voice in his head. _Weak-willed_.

That voice guided him through his Academy years, kept him disciplined. He couldn’t have finished school without the voice. It had reminded him that he was not perfect, always a work in progress and that there was always something that he could improve upon, always more that could be done. Hux never thought the voice to be too harsh and accepted the truth: he was never enough.  
  
Sometimes he thought he heard the voice speak with his father’s accent and intonation, but each time he dismissed it as a trick of his mind.  
  
_Your father loved you_.

A deep pang of hunger rolled through Hux, the head of a beast emerging from a murky lake. His stomach offered a hollow protest, the echo of emptiness inside him. Hux balled his right hand into a fist and sank it into his abdomen to silence its growling. He ground his knuckles against the tender flesh, pushing his treacherous body into submission.  
  
Hux crossed the room to his bed and lay on his front. It was a chilly evening but Hux always slept naked so that the cold can keep his awful body in check. Hux fell asleep with his fist still sunk into his middle and the hunger gnawing at him inside. Quiet tears trailed down his cheeks and settled in the hollow of his collarbones, like the water from the Academy showers all those years ago.

When Hux awoke the next morning, the hunger was gone. He looked in the mirror and smiled without mirth. When Hux saw his own eyes, he swore he could see the voice smiling with him. _  
_

 

* * *

 

Hux stared into his cup of lukewarm caf. He had taken two sips of it and could not bring himself to choke down the rest. His stomach churned with anxiety as he glanced at the chronometer on his datapad. Thirty gruelling minutes until his meeting with the Supreme Leader. This was the first meeting Hux will have with Snoke since the destruction of Starkiller; when Hux arrived at his base with Ren, he had simply sent for one of Kylo’s knights to escort him planetside and ordered Hux to return to the _Finalizer_.  
  
That was three standard weeks ago. Since then, Hux had thrown himself back into his work, drawing up reports and gathering data about the weakness in the thermal oscillator, that blasted failure — no, _his_ blasted failure — that allowed the collapse of Starkiller Base to occur. He had taken on extra shifts to distract himself from thoughts of this impending meeting.  
  
Hux checked his chrono again. Twenty minutes until his meeting. He wanted to pace to try and walk off some of his nerves but he knew he would do better to conserve his energy. He had slept poorly, managing to ward off his hunger for a while but he awoke that morning more tired than he was when he went to bed. The raw fear of this meeting was the only thing keeping Hux attentive.  
  
_Starkiller Base was your fault! It was your flawed design,_ the voice screams at Hux. _Your Stormtrooper program, your defect! The Resistance didn’t kill your staff — you and your incompetence did. The least the Supreme Leader should do to you is torture you and strip you of your rank! You deserve it, you worthless piece of shit!_  
  
Hux inhaled slowly and squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t stand this tension any longer; the air, coloured heavy with loss, smothered him. So Hux decided to make his way to the meeting chamber. It didn’t matter if he was early; it would give him time to get used to his surroundings and practice his answers before Snoke arrived.

If anyone along the way noticed the General’s agitated gait, they didn't show it. Hux ignored his saluting subordinates and didn't even stop to relieve them. He was too focused on rehearsing his lines, ready for at least a dozen different approaches depending on the Supreme Leader’s questions and reactions. Hux had planned for everything, from suggesting new strategies to pleading for his life. He hoped to the stars he wouldn't have to resort to the latter.  
  
With another deep breath, Hux entered the chamber. It was smaller and nowhere near as ornate as the one on Starkiller Base had been, with durasteel walls instead of duracrete. Its furnishings were modest but its ceiling was high enough to accommodate the size of Snoke’s hologram. Hux positioned himself with his back to the doors and imagined that the Supreme Leader was already towering over him. He swallowed dryly and tried to halt his racing thoughts.  
  
_It’s going to be all right,_ Hux told himself. _You know what to say. You’ll be accountable and tell Snoke you’re working to pinpoint the problem and ensure there is no repeat, ever. You’ve already made progress; there are officers drawing up new designs as we speak. As for the Stormtrooper program —_  
  
The grey hologram of the Supreme Leader crackled to life, interrupting Hux’s train of thought.

Hux’s heart was beating so fast and so loudly, the sound overwhelming his own senses. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the Supreme Leader could hear it. Still, he maintained eye contact with Snoke, vowing not to break his resolve. Hux’s stomach emitted an inappropriate rumble, reminding him that he had yet to eat this cycle. In response, Hux tensed his abdominal muscles.  
  
Snoke spoke first.  
  
“You do not need to be informed of the ramifications of your failure,” Snoke began. “The weapon. The traitor.” Snoke paused. “General. How are we to proceed?” 

Hux frowned and curled his lip into a sneer, afraid that he would cry if he didn't. “We have already begun our analysis of the shortcomings in the design of Starkiller Base. As we speak, data is being —”  
  
Snoke exhaled loudly enough for Hux to know that he had not answered the question.  
  
“Supreme Leader,” Hux reattempted. He struggled to move his tongue in his parched mouth. “Despite our losses, the Resistance is weaker than before. They have not had enough time to stage a complete relocation. They may have evacuated — our intelligence department can verify that — but much of their equipment and supplies and information remain in the Ileenium system. Further, we have the success of the Republic’s destruction on our side. Without a government, they cannot provide for the Outer Rim planets. They cannot enforce our continued exile. They cannot defend themselves against us. While our loss on Starkiller was significant, the combined forces of all the Order’s branches outnumber them.”

Hux took another deep breath and steadied his voice. “We can send details on tour to the remote planets and build local governments. At the same time, we can move in on the Core Worlds and replace the ruins of the Republic with a new Senate.  
  
“Pending your approval, Supreme Leader, we can hold a summit of High Command to develop exact plans,” Hux finished, a tiny hint of hope in his voice.  
  
Snoke leaned back in his chair, humming pensively and without indicating whether Hux’s response was satisfactory.  
  
Hux felt a cold sweat on the back of his neck and he clenched his gloved hands beneath his greatcoat. _This is it_ , Hux thinks. _I’m condemned to death. What will it be? Firing squad? Force-choke? Decapitation?_ Hux ran through the innumerable ways to die, trying to name as many as he could to keep himself grounded. No matter his fate, he would not cower before the Supreme Leader.  
  
Hux didn't know how long it was before Snoke finally spoke again.

“Good,” he said. “See to your plans. My apprentice will join you shortly. Align your duties with his.”

Before Hux could say anything more, Snoke’s hologram flickered and dissolved.

Shock rooted Hux to the spot. _Why didn’t he order your execution or torture or removal or a thousand other terrible things? Does this mean he’s happy with this plan? And he didn’t even mention FN-2187! No further questions, no dismissal, nothing!_ Hux felt the adrenaline rush through his body, his thoughts flooded with relief — yet he was unable to relax.

Hux forced himself to move in the direction of the exit, reeling a little from the stress of the meeting and his physical light-headedness. Hux was barely out of the chamber when something large and black stepped into his path and Hux collided headlong into it, skyrocketing his already elevated heart rate.  
  
On instinct Hux backed away and looked up — only to find himself face to face with the mask of Kylo Ren. Hux’s shock rapidly turned to anger and he shoved Ren with all his might, causing Kylo to take a step backwards, but no more.  
  
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Hux snapped.  
  
“Did the Supreme Leader not inform you of my arrival?” Ren replied, a note of amusement in his voice.  
  
“When he said ‘shortly,’ the implication was not ‘immediately,’” Hux said.

“It’s a pleasure to see you too, General,” Kylo teased.  
  
Hux didn't reply. He could not help but inspect Ren, fresh from his completed training. His mask was new, to make up for the one he lost on Starkiller. Hux saw that there was no lightsaber clipped to Kylo’s belt and that he appeared otherwise unarmed.  
  
Ren looked to be in better health than the last time they saw each other, but it was impossible for Hux to assess the true extent of Ren’s recovery without seeing the wounds themselves. He doubted that he would have the chance to inspect them anytime soon.  
  
Hux drew his gaze away from Ren. He smoothed down his uniform and adjusted his hat. Hux was probably needed on the bridge; he’d been away too long already. Hux tried to continue his journey but Ren’s voice stopped him.  
  
“I see that the Supreme Leader also did not inform you that we are to confer.”  
  
“I am well aware of my instructions. We don’t have to do this now. I have work to do.”  
  
“We ought to meet soon. My time is transient.”  
  
“I’ll send an invitation to your datapad.” With that, Hux swept past Kylo without so much as a backward glance. Kylo watched him go, noting the way that the General put his hand on his stomach as he walked away.  


* * *

  
The meeting with the Supreme Leader had taken less time than Hux thought. Once back on the bridge, he checked in with his staff and found all operations proceeding as normal. Nodding to Colonel Datoo, he excused himself to his office.  
  
Grateful for the time and space to himself, Hux shed his coat and hung it on a hook near the door. Hux settled into the chair at his workstation, peeling off his gloves and setting his hat down. He still could not believe that he made it out of that meeting alive. He tried to focus his thoughts on his duties but his eyes wandered to a button on his workstation.  
  
You deserve it this time, the voice said. _You’ve earned it._ Hux considered the voice’s words. But he was still responsible for so many failures. It was by sheer fluke that the Supreme Leader had not punished him at all. Perhaps he secretly had no faith in Hux’s plans and intended for his future failures to be his punishment? There could be worse things to come. No; he hadn’t earned anything.  
  
_You’re alive, aren’t you? Just this once, it’s all right. You won’t have to punish yourself like last time._  
  
Hux gave in and pushed the button, which opened up a slot on the right side of the console and deposited a nutrition bar into his waiting hand. Hux was just about to unwrap it when he stopped suddenly, forgetting himself. He got up and crossed to the left side of the room, where a large black dispenser stood. Hux flipped a switch and the machine came to life, filling the room with its vibrating and buzzing.  
  
It took several minutes for the machine to complete its task. When it was done, Hux sat down again, holding a single glass of filtered water.  
  
All water aboard the _Finalizer_ was carefully rationed and recycled wherever possible. On rare occasions, the _Finalizer_ was able to dock and replenish its supply of fresh water, but such opportunities were often years apart.  
  
The higher-ranking officers had access to the same complex water purifiers and were permitted to consume their designated portions at their leisure throughout the day, whereas the Stormtroopers had no choice but to drink at mealtimes only.  
  
Hux consistently drank well under his own allowance, partly for conservation purposes and partly because for all its value, he didn't care for its taste. Hux closed his eyes and downed the water in one gulp, grimacing as though it were medicine. Satisfied that he has fulfilled his ritual, Hux tore open the packaging of the nutrition bar and broke a piece off the end.  
  
It was a familiar, comforting flavour: bland and functional. He chewed on it thoughtfully without savouring the taste. He continued to break off small chunks of it, never biting directly into it with his teeth. When he was finished, he tossed the wrapper down the garbage chute and spritzed his hands with sanitiser.

Getting to work, Hux composed the message that he will transmit to the twelve other First Order Generals and its thirteen Admirals. He knew that they all received the report on Starkiller’s collapse two weeks ago, but whether they had bothered to look through its contents was another matter.  
  
Hux rose from his chair and put his gloves back on. He slid two fingers across his workstation and a screen popped up. Hux looked back at an image of himself as he would appear in the recording he sent. He cleared his throat, tapped the screen and began.  
  
“Greetings. This is General Hux, commander of the _Resurgent_ -class Battlecruiser _Finalizer_. I hope this message finds you well. As you may know, the First Order suffered the loss of Starkiller Base, the details of which are in the most recent communication you received from me. I have conferred with Supreme Leader Snoke and I am initiating a summit of High Command with his approval. While the loss of Starkiller Base is certainly a setback, the Order’s accomplishments prior to its destruction present us with opportunities that we should discuss.  
  
“Given the time-sensitivity of our affairs, I propose to hold this summit on the thirtieth cycle, one week from the date of this transmission. The summit itself will last for two cycles. If you are able to attend, you are invited to spend the duration of the summit in comfort aboard the _Finalizer_. If you cannot attend in person, you may participate via holoconference. Once I have received conformation of your availability, I shall send you the agenda, which you may amend before the start of the summit.  
  
“Please respond promptly. I look forward to a fruitful discussion and developing an action plan with you.” Hux balled his left hand into a fist and raised it. “To the First Order,” he said, and ended the recording.    
  
Hux pulled up the data files of High Command. He recorded himself addressing them all by name and inserted that clip into his first transmission — personalised greetings were more likely to result in positive responses, Hux had learned.

It took Hux two hours to produce an acceptable cut of each transmission and a further half hour to play each one back for quality assurance. Finally satisfied, he sent each one via a secure channel to its recipient.  
  
Checking that item off on his to-do list, Hux took up his datapad and scrolled through the numerous reports that he’d received while working. He could read them later that evening.  
  
A notification flashed in his message box. Frowning, he opened it.  
  
From: Kylo Ren  
To: General A. Hux  
Subject: Meeting?  
  
We need to confer. Supreme Leader’s Orders. Send your invitation.  
  
— KR.  
  
Irritated, but not enough to pick a fight with Ren over it, Hux sent his response.    
  
From: General A. Hux  
To: Kylo Ren  
Subject: RE: Meeting?  
  
1 Attachment, Meeting Invitation.  
Location: Conference Room 1138. Duration: 20:00–21:30. Participants: Kylo Ren, General A. Hux. Responded: 1.  
  
Seconds after Hux sent the message, his datapad informed him that Kylo opened it and accepted the invitation. Good — another thing he can check off his mental list.  
  
Hux looked at his chrono, which read 19:03. His shift ended over an hour ago and most of the crew in his area of the ship were eating dinner in the mess hall. Hux occasionally made an appearance in staff common areas to boost morale but he had avoided the mess hall since he returned to the _Finalizer_.  
  
Dinner was out of the question, Hux decided; he already ate this cycle. Gathering his things, Hux’s thoughts were full of the prospect of taking a shower that evening, reading over the reports he didn’t get to look at during his shift, and preparing for what was certain to be another stressful shift tomorrow. As the office doors hissed shut behind Hux, the voice beamed.

[Art by [4n0th3rm3]](http://4n0th3rm3.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Notes:  
> \- I have done my best to be as thorough as possible with the tags. If I have missed something that you think should be tagged, please let me know in the comments and I will add the tag, no questions asked. 
> 
> Personal Notes:  
> \- There’s space Google Calendar and space Skype in Star Wars. We all know it to be true.  
> \- I can’t be the only person who hates the taste of water. I grew up in a coastal town so the water was always a little chalky. Where I live now is so far away from the sea and the water tastes awful.  
> \- From my own experience cutting together a film, it’s so much more time consuming than I initially thought it would be. Hux puts together 25 transmissions in two hours and I cannot adequately express how impressive that is.  
> \- I am so sorry. Hux is going to have a bad time. 
> 
> **If you or anyone you know is suffering from an eating disorder, I've listed some resources that may help. Although some services are location-specific, many of them also offer information and remote support. I’m on[tumblr](http://thethirstorder.tumblr.com) and I’m available to talk and offer support in whatever way I can.**
> 
> [National Eating Disorders Association](http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/) (NEDA)  
> [The National Association for Males with Eating Disorders](http://namedinc.org/) (NAMED)  
> [National Eating Disorder Information Centre](http://nedic.ca/) (NEDIC)  
> [Eating Disorder Hope](http://www.eatingdisorderhope.com/)  
> [Beat](http://www.b-eat.co.uk/)
> 
>  
> 
> _I was really nervous about posting this so if you leave a comment telling me what you thought, positive or negative, it would mean so much to me. Thank you <3_


	2. Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux and Kylo's meeting does not go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Content warning for in-depth depiction of anxiety and living with an eating disorder. This chapter is the primary reason for the Graphic Depictions of Violence tag and I encourage you to proceed with caution. Specific warnings for explicit descriptions of binging, purging, and food rituals, as well as two instances of using bathroom scales (no numbers involved), minor drug use, self-hatred, and body image issues.**
> 
> **Update, Feb 26, 2017: I commissioned some art for this chapter and the previous chapter. While there is nothing explicit, there is skeletal imagery and blood, so please proceed wth caution. If there is anything else I can do to make your reading experience better or safer, please let me know.**

Despite his hatred of drinking water, Hux loved the feeling of a water shower. Most other officers had to make do with sonic showers, which, for all their efficiency, were much less satisfying to stand under.

Threading his hands through his hair, Hux massaged shampoo into his scalp. He soaped his entire body with care, sliding his hands over his chest, his back. Hux rubbed his thighs, soap snaking down his calves. He ran his hands down his arms, stopping to circle his right hand around his left wrist and smiled as he felt his middle finger overlap his thumb. 

After he rinsed the suds from his hair and the soap from his body, Hux shut off the water and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. He wasted no time cleaning his teeth, looking at himself in the mirror as he did so. Two purple-ringed eyes set against pale skin stared back at him. Frowning, Hux spat into the sink and reached into the cabinet for his concealer, which he dabbed under each eye.

Taking a deep breath, Hux let his towel fall to his feet. He stepped onto his fresher scale, located directly in front of a full-length mirror. Hux closed his eyes and stood as still as he could to allow the number on the display screen to settle. When he opened his eyes again, the number he saw was lower than it was yesterday, but still much too high for his liking. He could almost feel the voice sitting on his shoulder, like a friend.

_Good, but not good enough. Never good enough._

Hux looked up and confronted his naked reflection. An abundance of pale flesh stared back, the almost-outline of his ribs taunting him. Hux turned to the side and inspected his stomach, one hand pinching a phantom roll of fat. He looked no different than the day before. _Just as repulsive as ever_ , the voice said.  
  
Hux looked back down at the scale, then again at his reflection. The voice is right, he conceded. What if there’s a problem with his scale? He added half a kilo — no, a full kilo — to the number shown to account for any margin of error. _Disgusting_.  
  
Getting off the scale, Hux commenced work on his hair, parting it in on the left side of his head, the same style he had worn for years. He combed gel through it to hold it in place, enjoying the feel of manipulating the strands. Hux looked into the mirror again and started to recognise himself.  
  
He dressed mechanically, his mind on the meetings he would attend today, the sectors he would inspect, the plans he’d approve, the agenda for the summit that he had to compose. He looped his belt around his waist — was it tighter than yesterday, or was that just his imagination? Hux shook his head; it didn't matter, as long as it fit.  
  
Hux exited his fresher and sat on his bed to pull on his boots. His datapad flashed with his schedule for the day, which he opened and glanced over. There were no surprises, except the meeting he forgot he arranged with Ren. Hux had no love for him, but he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t a little curious about what Ren’s own assigned tasks were and how they were supposed to “align” with Hux’s.  
  
Deciding to leave his coat and hat behind, Hux brushed down his uniform and headed out to the Finalizer’s command deck, determined to walk right past the mess hall without stopping on his way. 

* * *

Hux waited until the end of his shift to review his communications and expected to go through them swiftly; however, the other members of High Command were as diligent as him and most of them had already sent their replies. Hux appreciated their punctuality but sifting through all of their messages one after the other would no doubt be a little overwhelming. He considered the twenty notifications flashing on his holoprojector with a sigh.

The Generals and Admirals thanked him for the invitation and acknowledged receipt of Hux’s post-Starkiller report. Eighteen of them confirmed their attendance in person and two sent their regrets, requesting to be present via holoconference. Hux suspected a hint of smugness in two or three of the messages from other Generals when they mentioned his Starkiller report, and a note of disappointment in a few others.

Hux had heard of most of them long before they ever heard of him; they were the names that his instructors at the Academy cited as exemplary, the names that held school records and that were carved into trophies and awards. Their portraits hung in the Academy mess hall where Hux and his peers had grown up hearing about their victories and accomplishments, knowing that similar success was in their futures too.  
  
When Hux surpassed them all, becoming the youngest General in the First Order’s history, the older Generals resented him. A newcomer, only eight years out of the Academy, in charge of the Starkiller Base project and commander of the Order’s flagship Star Destroyer and graced with the Supreme Leader’s favour. They were never obvious about their resentment but Hux could always detect it in their meetings; it was in the edge to their words, the twitch of their lips, and their glaring eyes.  
  
Hux sighed again at the memories. The coldness of their messages stung but by the time Hux saw them in person, he would be unperturbed. He found the Admirals’ replies to be friendlier in nature; one or two of them asked how he was and a further two apologised for the loss of Starkiller as though they were consoling Hux about the loss of a relative.

Glancing at his chrono, Hux realised he worked until well after his shift again and he had about an hour left until his meeting with Kylo. It wouldntake him approximately three minutes to get to the conference room — surely there was something productive he can do in the meantime?

Hux ran through the remaining items on his to-do list. He’d completed the summit agenda, the sector inspections, and addressed everything as planned in the day’s meetings. There was one report left to review, but Hux knew he couldn't finish looking it over to the standards that he would like in less than an hour, so he decided to head back to his quarters, which would increase the length of his trip to the conference room by two minutes.

The quickest route to his quarters was past the mess hall — no matter, he could march past it as he always did. The dinnertime scents — Hux couldn't help but guess that there’s gravy — the clink of cutlery, the clutter, the chatter, wove their way through his head. Hux felt his thoughts lagging, unfocused and foggy, and his stomach twisting, protesting. Had he eaten today?

Hux sped up his pace and headed straight for his fresher, snatching up a bottle of stimulants from the cabinet. With trembling hands he shook out two pills and glanced to the looming purifier. He didn't think he could stomach the water so he dry-swallowed the pills, leaving a lump of bitter aftertaste in his throat.

Another glance at his chrono. Forty minutes until his meeting with Ren. He wouldn't sleep, Hux decided, he’d just lie down for a bit. Hux plodded to his bed, sank into the mattress without bothering to take off his boots. He lay with his eyes to the ceiling, zoned out and looking at nothing. He didn't trust himself; he couldn't close his eyes, so he waited for the stims to kick in.

A sharp jolt of pain coursed through him and his hand automatically went to his stomach.  
  
_You have not eaten today._  
  
Another glance at his chrono. Thirty-six minutes to his meeting. Hux squeezed his eyes shut then opened them wide, his pupils enlarging. Were the lights always this bright?  
  
“Lights, twenty per cent,” Hux said. It wouldn’t do to be unfocused when meeting with Ren. He’d need all his energy to concentrate and likely to argue with the Knight. Another glance at his chrono — thirty-five minutes this time. Hux massaged his temples then picked up his comm. His voice shook as he spoke: “I’ll eat in my quarters tonight.”

* * *

When his meal arrived, exactly twenty-seven minutes until his meeting with Ren, Hux was glued to his datapad, poring over the nutrition stats that he had requested. The droid entered, meal tray in hand. Hux was right — there _was_ gravy involved. 

“Thank you,” Hux murmured, then wondered why he thanked a simple service droid.

Taking a seat by the viewport, Hux balanced the tray in his lap and stared down his dinner as though expecting a venomous creature to crawl out of it. He pushed his food around his plate and prodded it with his fork, cutting it up as he inventoried its contents: carbs, meat, vegetables. Hux stared some more, torn between wanting to shove it all down his gullet at once and wanting to toss the whole thing out of the airlock. 

_I have to eat this_ , Hux reasoned with himself. _I must_.  
  
_You will eat slowly_ , the voice chipped in. _You will not taste any of it_.  
  
_Yes. I don’t deserve to_ , Hux agreed, and the voice hummed in delight.

Hux started off obediently with a forkful of meat, counting to ten as he chewed. One-two-three-four-five-six. He swallowed on six — _shit, curse your fat arse_ — he’d have to do better. His stomach groaned at the invasion of sustenance.

The next bite was slower and Hux made it to ten, the meat ground to flavourless pulp in his mouth. The texture was mushy, all the gravy long gone and he grimaced as he forced it down. As he started on the vegetables, Hux nearly dropped his fork — he forgot to drink his requisite water glass before dinner.

Tears sprung to his eyes; he couldn't even follow the rules he set for himself. _Well, there’s no point in getting one now. You’re damned useless_ , taunted the voice. _You might as well just give up and disregard all your rules._  
  
No, my resolve will not break, Hux thought to himself. _I can recover this, I can, I can_!

He tried again, but swallowed on four.

 _Fuck it. What’s the point. Just finish already. Get this over with._ And he did, spearing food with his fork as though it were a kabob, filling his mouth so full he could barely chew. Closing his mouth was an effort, juices and spit squirted from his lips but Hux was too busy moving his fork plate-to-mouth to notice or care.  
  
The next helping, Hux discarded his fork — it would be quicker to eat with his hands, he thought through the haze of hunger. He tossed his gloves to the floor, breaking the last barrier between him and his food. With a quivering hand, Hux scooped mashed potato into his palm, gravy dripping from between his fingers and onto his uniform as he shoved it blindly into his mouth.  
  
Not stopping to swallow, he went in for another handful, turning carrots to purée under his fingernails. He moved mechanically and grew more ravenous with every bite. In what seemed like an instant, the plate was empty and Hux was left dragging his fingertips over the surface to see what sauce he could salvage. When his fingers scrabbled for purchase in vain, Hux picked up the plate and licked it savagely clean. Throughout the ordeal, he tasted nothing but failure, his stomach twisting all the while — overwhelmed at the influx of attention.

But it was still not enough so he grabbed his comm, his hands dripping with mess and barked for dessert to be sent to his quarters.

And the chrono ticked on.

* * *

Kylo Ren knelt before Snoke, shirtless and panting from the exertion of his exercise. He bowed his head, sweat dripping from his hair as the Supreme Leader praised him.

“You have done well, my apprentice,” he said, laying a clammy hand on Kylo’s head. “Only one final task remains.” Kylo remained prostrate and didn't pull away. “It is not a test, my apprentice, but a necessity. You shall enjoy this assignment,” Snoke continued.

“No Force user should be without his lightsaber. Go to the planet Lothal and seek out a kyber crystal. Rebuild your weapon with the knowledge I have taught you,” Snoke said.

“Yes, master,” said Kylo. What should its design be?”

“The design is your choosing,” Snoke replied. “But first, return to the _Finalizer_ and consult with General Hux. Align your duties with his.” At this, Kylo groaned internally. Hux always got in the way of his plans. It was his defective Stormtrooper that had made off with the Resistance pilot whom he could have broken to get the location of the map to Skywalker. It was Hux’s fault that Starkiller Base was flawed and vulnerable to a Resistance attack. Hux was nothing but a liability and a nuisance.

A nuisance who couldn’t even show up on time to a meeting set according to his own schedule, no less.

Kylo’s annoyance snapped him out of his thoughts. He couldn't recall a single time that he’d beaten Hux to a meeting location. Hux always arrived no more than fifteen seconds either side of the scheduled time. Of course, Hux would never chastise him in front of his officers — that would be far too unprofessional — but the glare Hux saved for Kylo every time said it all.

Yet, there he was and Hux was a whole three minutes late. Kylo smiled to himself; thinking of the quips he might fire off once the General arrived. Perhaps a remark disguised as a question: “What’s the time?” Or a sarcastic “How gracious of you to make an appearance, General.” Perhaps it might be more cutting to say nothing at all and instead give Hux the same glare he reserved for Kylo every time.

Ren took a seat at the end of the long conference table. He took off his mask and rested his chin on his hands. He decided to wait another two minutes for Hux to arrive. 

* * *

The carnage of Hux’s meal littered the ground. Drops of gravy and meat juice mingled with the incriminating crumbs and icing, along with sweet wrappers and pastry flakes and dollops of cream. The General was bent over where he sat, one sticky hand on his distended stomach.

The food he just ate swelled in his belly like an alien growth. He could feel it pushing outwards, deforming and overwhelming, seizing control from him. Hux moved both his hands to his head, dug his food-crusted nails into his scalp and screeched in anguish — a sharp feral sound that ricocheted off his chamber walls.

 _You know now what you must do_ , said the voice. _You can still make things right_.

Yes, Hux knew what he must do. He’d done it a thousand times before — his most filthy, shameful secret. His punishment. All the pain justly earned. He’d feel it for days afterwards, a reminder never to repeat this disgusting display of disorder again. But of course he will. He always did.

Numbly, Hux stood and winced at the pressure on his strained middle. He padded over to his fresher and knelt in front of the lavatory basin, like a layperson before an alter. Premature tears sprung to his eyes — he hated this, he _hated_ it. But it must be done.

In one swift movement, Hux opened his mouth and jammed his index and middle fingers down his throat, forcing them down as far as they will go, his nails hitting the back of his throat. His stomach contracted on cue and unleasheed a storm of Hux’s barely-digested dinner into the toilet bowl.

Hux retracted his fingers, leaving a thin rope of saliva trailing from lips to fingertips. The tears flowed freely now, blotching his skin. Hux spat into the toilet as he tried to eject the vile taste of sick from his mouth.

He shoved his dripping fingers back into his mouth and clawed at his throat, more vomit hit the toilet bowl. The impact splashed Hux’s already soiled uniform but the General was resigned: _what did it matter now?_ Hux’s nose started to run from the pressure and he dragged the back of his other hand across his face to stem the flow. 

Hux dared not look up; he didn’t need a mirror to see how grotesque he looked now. _Remember this feeling,_ the voice said _. Isn’t it awful? See, this is what happens when you eat too much. Let’s not do this again._

Hux stuck his fingers in his mouth again, his teeth slicing his knuckles open. _Rinse and repeat_ , said the voice. Hux’s eyes streamed, his nose ran, his throat burned. _Rinse and repeat_.

* * *

Kylo looked at the chrono in the conference room. Fifteen minutes had passed and there was no sign of the General. Oh, how Hux would never live this down! Never again would he be smug about Kylo’s mere tardy seconds when he was a full quarter hour late! Kylo raised his datapad to transmit an image of the chronometer to Hux’s datapad, along with the caption “Are we forgetting something?” when he stopped in his tracks. 

Sending an image would be petty, Kylo decided. There was, after all, urgent business to attend to and for once Kylo wanted to speak to Hux so he could get his mission underway. Kylo put his mask back on and stomped out of the conference room, fuming.

Kylo stalked to the bridge but there was no Hux in sight. His office was locked and neither Unamo nor Mitaka had seen him since morning. Kylo commed Phasma and demanded to know where she last saw the General. He came by to inspect a sector she was using for simulations this afternoon, she said, but she hadn’t seen him since then. 

He wasn't in the officers’ lounge, nor in the training facilities. Kylo turned around and headed to Hux’s quarters, the last place he could be.

* * *

When Kylo arrived, Hux’s quarters were locked as expected. He knocked politely on one of the blast doors. 

“General Hux? General, are you there?” he called.

No answer. Kylo tried again, knocking louder this time.

“General? Hello?”

When Hux made no response, Kylo pounded the metal in earnest, as though he could punch his way through the durasteel. He sighed, the noise huffing through his mask, and withdrew his fist. Turning his attention to the control panel on the wall next to Hux’s door, Kylo reached out with the Force and Hux’s doors parted, as though the General had opened them himself. 

“General!” Kylo called again, stepping inside. “General Hux! The Supreme Leader will not be impressed when he hears that you—” Kylo stopped mid-sentence.

Hux’s quarters were immaculate, except for the area by the viewport, which looked like some wild animal came and raked through Hux’s dessert. The empty food tray sat spotless next to his chair.

A noise interrupted Kylo’s observations. Kylo stood still, unlatching his mask to hear and see better. Yes, there was an unmistakable retching sound coming from Hux’s refresher. He saw the door was ajar and smacked the button next to it to open it fully to reveal General Hux, his uniform crumpled and stained, with his fingers in his mouth, vomiting unceremoniously into the lavatory basin. 

Now fully sunk to his knees, Hux thought he tasted blood mixed with the sour taste of bile. His throat burned raw from the innumerable rounds of vomiting and his eyes were red-rimmed from crying. He slumped against the toilet bowl, spent and empty with nothing left to throw up. At the hissing sound of the door, Hux whipped around and to his absolute horror it was Kylo Ren standing on the threshold. 

Kylo took in the scene before him: the vomit, the sickly light, the General. He thought back to the mess in Hux’s quarters and a light came on in his brain. The two of them stared at each other in shock for an instant before Hux looked away in vain, as though breaking eye contact would erase this shameful sight from Kylo’s memory.

“General…” Kylo began, not knowing what to say. All thoughts of anger had left him and no wisecracking words came to mind. Because _this_ was why the General was late — he'd been tearing himself apart from inside. Forkful by forkful, Hux carved his path to destruction and Kylo could sympathise, but he’d always channelled his rage outwards and into the Force, making him stronger. Here Hux denied himself, thought inwards to breaking point until he couldn't contain it any longer, unleashing an uncontrollable, insatiable _thing —_ weakening himself in the process. And Kylo couldn't for the life of him understand why. For emotions were meant to be expressed and harnessed, not suppressed and locked up.

Hux must have noticed the flicker of pity in Kylo’s eyes because he wanted to yell at Kylo, to scream and shout. But his abused throat couldn't project the sound of his voice. “Get out!” Hux rasped, barely louder than a whisper. 

“Hux, I—”

“That’s an order! Get out! And that’s General Hux to you!” Hux croaked with as much vitriol his broken voice could communicate.

“No. General, we had a meeting at 20:00. It is now 20:33,” Kylo said calmly. Hux’s eyes blazed and he opened his mouth to retort, but Kylo steamrolled him and continued. “I can see you’re in no state to talk so I’ll leave you. I’ll send the details of my duties to your datapad. We can converse that way.”

Hux gave up trying to speak and hated Kylo even more for his show of compassion. It was an unexpected development, but Hux couldn’t bring himself to show his surprise. He was far too proud to thank Kylo, and ashamed of his rudeness — _can’t he do anything right?_ Hux settled for glaring at Kylo, eyes locked on him like a shooting target.  
  
Kylo noted Hux’s piercing gaze and made a mental note to revisit it later. “But General, we both know you can’t work like this. Your tasks are your own, but our goals are shared and I can’t have you impeding my progress.” _Not again_ , Kylo added mentally. “Do us both a favour and take better care of yourself. And try to respond to my message by midnight.” With that, Kylo turned on his heel and stepped out of Hux’s refresher before Hux had the chance to reply.

On his way out of Hux’s quarters, Kylo stopped by the mess at the viewport. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before waving his hand. The rubbish levitated its way into the garbage chute and Kylo silently made his way out, closing the blast doors behind him.

* * *

Hux’s whole body trembled and he told himself it was from the stress of purging the evils from inside him, and not the unbridled fury he felt towards Kylo Ren. Standing on shaking legs, Hux rose, seeing himself in the mirror for the first time that evening. Hux stripped off his filthy clothes and got on his refresher scale. The number was higher than it was that morning; Hux’s features contorted and he punched his reflection in the stomach. The mirror shattered, and Hux’s cracked lips curved like the blade of a scythe, into a smile. 

[Art by [4n0th3rm3]](http://4n0th3rm3.tumblr.com/)

* * *

Back in his quarters, Kylo Ren typed out a message to Hux. He showed no hint of concern and made no mention of what he saw tonight; he knew that would only make matters worse. He knew that framing his plea for Hux to look after himself in terms of their shared mission would be more appealing to the General’s sense of duty than admitting that he was concerned about him.

From: Kylo Ren  
To: General A. Hux  
Subject: Alignment of Tasks  
  
My assignment is to retrieve an item from the planet Lothal. It’s in the Outer Rim so it’s close by, but the search will be the bulk of the task. I depart tomorrow. I’ll take my own shuttle with no accompaniment and will return in exactly one week.  
  
Please send details of your assignment.  
  
— KR.  
  
Kylo hit ‘send’ and sat on his bed. He stared at the wall for a long time before getting ready to sleep.

* * *

Hux was curled up in bed, clean from his shower, when his datapad flashed. He knew it was Ren before he looked at the notification. _Ren did have a point_ , Hux thought. _We have work to do_.

From: General A. Hux  
To: Kylo Ren  
Subject: RE: Alignment of Tasks  
  
I know where Lothal is. You’ll be returning on the first day of the Summit of High Command, which I have initiated with the Supreme Leader’s approval. This does not affect your plans, since you need not be present at the Summit.  
  
Regards,  
  
General A. Hux  


Hux read over the message once. He could send it one minute to midnight, he thought, just to irritate Ren in a petty act of vengeance that was quite insufficient to make up for the indignity of Kylo walking in on him like that.

Hux shook his head — that would be something that Ren would do to annoy _him_. He hit ‘send’ and then reached over to his nightstand for his bottle of sleeping pills. He shook two into his hand, the knuckles of which were split open, and swallowed them, gritting his teeth as they made their way down his inflamed gullet.

“Lights, zero per cent,” Hux whispered to nobody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes:  
> \- Starkiller is canonically the investment of both the First Order army and navy, since it’s a planet and interstellar weapon [Source: The Visual Dictionary]  
> \- Hux’s title is from the army; his command of the Finalizer comes with his deployment to Starkiller Base [Source: Pablo Hidalgo’s Twitter]  
> \- I’ve placed Hux as having graduated the Academy at 22, which means he was 30 when be became General.  
> \- This work is now 5 chapters long and I’ve adjusted the length accordingly. 
> 
> Personal notes:
> 
> \- I apologise for the length of time it took me to post this chapter. University has been taking up a lot of my time but I'm done in a couple of weeks and I hope to find the time to write more regularly.  
> \- This is the fourth or fifth time I’ve written a “Hux gets ready for the day” scene in my fics and I am sorry if you’ve read my other stuff and have found it repetitive. I like imagining characters doing everyday things and I would honestly watch a whole film about Hux combing his hair and drinking tea.  
> \- I’m not going to play the numbers game, partially because I’m bad at mathematics and because I don’t think giving a number will add any value or meaning to the story. Not mentioning specific numbers is one of the chief rules of eating disorder recovery and I want to respect that. I don’t need to give a number in order to show Hux’s mindset and I hope you feel the same way.  
> \- The failed meeting and the subsequent message exchange is an homage to all the times I’ve been asked to attend meetings about matters that could have been settled by email.  
> \- Next chapter: the summit gets underway and the Kylux begins. 
> 
> **If you or anyone you know is suffering from an eating disorder, I've listed some resources that may help. Although some services are location-specific, many of them also offer information and remote support. I’m on[tumblr](http://thethirstorder.tumblr.com) and I’m available to talk and offer support in whatever way I can.**
> 
> [National Eating Disorders Association](http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/) (NEDA)  
> [The National Association for Males with Eating Disorders](http://namedinc.org/) (NAMED)  
> [National Eating Disorder Information Centre](http://nedic.ca/) (NEDIC)  
> [Eating Disorder Hope](http://www.eatingdisorderhope.com/)  
> [Beat](http://www.b-eat.co.uk/)
> 
> _This fic remains the most difficult for me to write. It would mean a lot to me if you left a comment telling me what you thought, positive or negative. Thank you <3_


	3. Disappear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summit begins and takes an unexpected turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Content warning for in-depth depiction of anxiety and living with an eating disorder. Specific warnings for restriction as it pertains to length of time and liquids consumed, mentions of drug use, fainting, coercive institutionalisation, use of a weighing scale where Hux cannot see the number, crying, mentions of specific foods.**
> 
> **Update, Mar 20, 2018: There is now art for this chapter. There is nothing explicit but the image includes specific foods.**

He’d been tracking it for days.

Kylo Ren expected the hunt for a new kyber crystal to be more arduous than it turned out to be. He knew that the crystals were scarce and that much of Lothal’s lush landscape had been converted to mines in the age of the Empire, which meant that he had to carve out his own tunnels and search the nooks and crannies of the planet instead of relying on the beaten path.

A static hum filled the air and Kylo froze, reaching out with the Force. He detected a thrum, guiding him towards a hollow in the rock. Dead leaves crackled beneath his feet as he crept towards it. He was close; he could feel the crystal calling to him.

He poked around in the undergrowth, stooping down so he could peer into a crack in the rock. A faint bluish glow flashed back at him. Kylo assessed the width of the crack and determined that it wasn’t wide enough for him to reach in and retrieve the crystal. So he extended his hand and watched the crack widen under the pressure from his strengthened Force powers.  
  
Kylo felt the hum of the crystal grow louder, compelling him to continue. Cautiously, he moved towards the gap and reached in, his gloved hand closing around the vibrating crystal. As he touched it, a rush of energy surged up Kylo’s arm and through the rest of his body.

Gently clutching the crystal, Kylo withdrew his hand from the crevice and sat down cross-legged on the mossy ground to inspect his treasure.

As he unfurled his fingers, the clear crystal darkened in Kylo’s hand, fading to a dusky grey. Kylo watched the crystal turn a translucent black.

* * *

One week after the disastrous incident in his refresher, Hux stood in the _Finalizer_ ’s largest docking bay, rubbing his palms together in anticipation of High Command’s arrival. With Ren off on his mission to Lothal, Hux was at least glad to be alone for this. No need to explain Kylo’s presence or role aboard the ship to anybody, nor risk Kylo contradicting Hux if he were to be asked about Starkiller.

Hux clasped his hands together behind his back in an attempt to stop his compulsive fidgeting. He had made an honest attempt to eat a few spoonfuls of porridge that morning but the texture combined with his anxiety made his stomach turn. It did not help that he had gone three days without eating, running entirely on water, caf, and stimulants. He hadn’t used this routine since his Academy days, where it was harder to skip regulation meals and stims were smuggled in and traded in dormitory whispers.  
  
Hux had barely slept the night before, ensuring that every detail was in place, reading his notes into the early hours of the morning, and insisting on hourly reports about the status of usually mundane tasks like cleaning the docking bay that had become high priority.  
  
Pacing the room, Hux practiced his greetings. _Stop it_ , the voice said. _Your nervousness gives you away._ He checked his chrono, which read 06:56. Members of High Command were set to arrive in approximately four minutes.  
  
Hux’s heart thuded like a restless creature trying to break free from the cage of his chest. He threaded his fingers together and recited the day’s agenda to distract himself from his anxiety.  
  
07:00 – Arrival & Registration  
08:00 – SB-1 Discussion and Debrief  
10:30 – Break  
10:45 – Holding Back the Chaos: Presentation  
12:15 – Lunch  
13:30 – Intelligence Reports  
15:00 – Inventory  
16:00 – Break  
16:15 – Strategy & Assignments  
18:00 – Dinner  
20:00 – Social

 _It’s going to be fine_ , Hux thought to himself. _Everything is under control. We’ve got an agenda and we’ll stick to it. It’s going to be all right._

 _But what if it’s not all right?_  
  
Hux squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to catastrophise, his anxiety getting the better of him. _What if they’ve been plotting against you and move to court martial you during the first session?_ the voice chimes in. _What if the_ Finalizer _kitchens didn’t receive the memo about dietary restrictions and you serve something that makes one of them ill? What if they mock you for Starkiller? What if they reject your proposal and refuse to fund it?_

Hux tried to push the intrusive thoughts out of his head. _That won’t happen_ , he told himself. _If they had wanted to court martial me, they would have already done it. Besides, the Supreme Leader can veto a dishonourable discharge._  
  
As for the kitchens, Hux knew for a fact that they received the memo; he’d checked three times. He’d already approved the menu and personally ensured that everyone was able to eat while they were here. Everybody except him.  
  
Mockery for Starkiller, Hux knew he could take, for he had endured enough of it already. The prospect of High Command rejecting his proposal would pose a much bigger problem, but Hux decided to tackle that problem if and when it came up. There was no use worrying about something that may or may not happen in the future, he told himself.  
  
_This is fine_ , Hux reminded himself. _You’re fine_.

 _But what if one of them discovers our little secret?_ taunted the voice.

The sound of Hux’s comlink pulled him from his thoughts. He started, answered the comm and finds that his chrono reads 07:00 exactly.

“Sir, it’s Unamo. As you requested, I’m letting you know that we’ve received transmissions from several _Upsilon_ -class shuttles requesting docking permission,” she announced.  
  
“Perfect. You’ve received their clearance codes?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“Clear them for entry.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you. When you’re done, come with Captain Phasma to Docking Bay One,” Hux ordered. “It’s time to greet our guests.”

* * *

Sitting at the largest table the _Finalizer_ had, in the largest conference room available, Hux relaxed into his chair. He felt much more in his element than that morning. His nerves were still present, but they weren't threatening to tangle his hands together or constrict his chest. The Starkiller debrief hadn’t been the most pleasant of times, but Hux had prepared for much worse. All that remained was to wrap up any outstanding questions. 

“I’d like to thank you for this most civil discussion,” Hux said. “Between us, we have thoroughly analysed a failure and found opportunities to strengthen our forces and widen our reach going forward. With the Hosnian System and the New Republic reduced to stardust, I am more confident than ever that we can lead the First Order to glory and bring prosperity to the Galaxy.” Hux paused, casting a glance at the faces in the room. Most were attentive, looking back at Hux with polite half-smiles and attention.  
  
“Any further questions?” he asked.

General Zeb Orikan, a fifty-year-old former bomber captain, pressed a button on his datapad to add himself to the speaking list.

“General Orikan?” 

Orikan cleared his throat and sat up. “Speaking freely, General Hux, I for one, am shocked that you are still in command. Designing a weapon with a fatal flaw is the most damning sign of incompetence,” he said. “Have we learned nothing from the First and Second Death Stars?” 

 _Ten minutes until break time_ , Hux thought to himself. _Ten minutes. You can get through this._

“It wasn’t designed to have a fatal flaw,” Hux explained, his tone even. “`The First Death Star was, we know that now.”

“Building an unintentional flaw into your design is worse than an intentional one,” Orikan scoffed.

“There was no flaw, intentional or unintentional,” Hux stated. “The weapon was well-protected by shields, ground cannons, and many other defence mechanisms that would never have been necessary in the presence of the active shields. The only way to penetrate the shield was to disable it. Captain Phasma has explained in detail the circumstances under which she disabled the shields and she has accepted her role in the matter,” he said, gesturing to Phasma, sitting impassively to his right.

“I do not care for your implication, General Orikan, and I would encourage you to set aside your personal resentment and work with us for the betterment of the Order as per the oath we all swore,” Hux finished.

Orikan only scowled and huffed. It would be unbecoming of him to try to argue with Hux further.  
  
“Would anyone else like to raise a concern?” Hux asked, a hand indicating the table before him. Nobody else moved to speak. “Good,” Hux said. “In that case, we are adjourned for fifteen standard minutes. Our refreshments shall be along momentarily.”

Chatter broke out among the members of High Command almost instantly. Hux rose, putting one hand on the table to steady himself. He had had a cup of caf earlier that morning but he already craved another.  
  
Deciding that he’d rather not make small talk with the other Admirals and Generals, Hux slipped out of the door and leaned against the wall, shuddering at the cold feel of the durasteel on his back. He looked at his chrono again; it was 10:32. Before he could help himself, he remembered that Ren was due to return today and wondered idly what time his shuttle would dock.

He hadn’t spoken to Ren since the incident in his fresher. Ren had followed all departure procedures to the letter, even notifying Hux personally that he was about to embark on his mission. Hux hadn’t responded, not out of spite or pettiness, but because he couldn’t. Hux had done his best to not to think about that humiliating memory, for which avoiding Ren was a viable, if temporary, solution.

A clatter down the hallway signified the arrival of the break refreshments. Hux avoided glancing at the oncoming entourage and slipped back inside the room. He did his best to ignore the digestive biscuits on the platter and chose a mug of caf and a glass of water for manners’ sake. It would be an unbecoming display of privilege for him not to take the water; he knew that the officers from smaller ships had fewer water purifiers and operated on even stricter rations than aboard the _Finalizer_. Most members of High Command chose water when offered the selection of beverages, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Hux. He couldn’t deny that he enjoyed seeing some of his more antagonistic colleagues laid low by the base need for water, a tell-tale sign of their poverty and poorly-equipped vessels.  
  
_Well, if they wanted a better ship, they ought to be better officers_ , Hux thought smugly to himself. When he took over command of the Finalizer, he could have felt the resentment radiating from High Command from halfway across the Galaxy. The youngest General in the Order, leading the largest operational warship it had. Others had called his promotion preposterous and insulting, but Hux cared little for their envy.  
  
Hux sat down again and took a long drink of caf, hoping for the caffeine to charge his nerves. Hux placed both elbows on the table and rested his head on his hands. He felt so tired that he thought he’d fall asleep right there if he were to close his eyes. He took his datapad from his pocket and looked over his presentation notes. His chrono told him he had five minutes until the summit resumed.

* * *

Kylo’s shuttle cruised through space back to the _Finalizer_. The shuttle’s dashboard told him that he’d be arriving in the next few minutes. Kylo took the crystal out of his pocket again, holding it up to the light and admiring its jagged edges and its rich, dark colour. It will make a most formidable weapon, he thought to himself.  
  
Kylo leaned back in his seat and let his lightsaber design take root in his head. If all went well, he wouldn’t need the crossguard vents of his old blade, for this crystal was intact and stable. He hoped that he won’t need any external wiring and that he could give this new weapon a plated finish and maybe —

A sharp jolt interrupted Kylo’s train of thought and his senses were suddenly stuffed with exhaustion. Kylo gasped involuntarily and slumped forward. His head suddenly felt very heavy and began to pound. He closed his eyes against the pain, removing his mask to try to get some air.

As suddenly as the sensation began, it vanished, and Kylo sat upright again. He breathed heavily. _What was that?_ Before he could think about it anymore, Kylo felt another jolt, running through him like a current of electricity. _What in the blazes—_

A single image focused Kylo’s attention: it was Hux, in a meeting with the other members of High Command. Hux was standing at the front of the room, giving a presentation of some sort but he was squinting in the harsh lighting of the room and Kylo thought he might be struggling to stay upright. Kylo saw beads of perspiration on Hux’s forehead, which was paler than usual.  
  
This was the first time that Kylo had ever felt Hux through the Force. Kylo tried to recall the other people he has felt through the Force: the Supreme Leader, his mother, his uncle. _This makes no sense,_ thought Kylo.    
  
Before he could think any further, the image changed and this time he couldn't see Hux at all, but he could see the entire room looking at him. He saw Phasma and Mitaka whispering to each other in the back, but couldn't hear a thing they said to each other. Dark spots danced at the edge of his vision and Kylo realised that he had to act quickly if Hux was to leave that room with anything resembling dignity.

Hux stood before the entire room when he felt the pressure building in his head, as though his brain was swelling and pushing against the walls of his skull. He found himself suddenly short of breath; he put a hand to his too-tight collar and could feel his knees buckling, wanting to give way under him. He tried to continue with his speech but the words wouldn't form in his dry mouth; his tongue felt too heavy to lift, and he couldn't even hear what he was saying. Hux was sure he was getting some very strange looks from his audience, but his vision was too blurry to see them.  
  
A haze of dread descended on Hux, he knew this feeling. He wasn't supposed to let this happen, his routine was supposed to strengthen him, to give him control, not make him so weak he couldn't stand. Groggily, Hux knew he had to get out — he refused to let himself pass out in front of High Command. Without looking at anyone, he stammered out an “Excuse me,” before forcing himself towards the exit. He stumbled a little on his way, but he made it out the door.  
  
Kylo had never done this before, not from such a distance, but he figured if he could sense Hux from where he is now, he could use the Force from here, too. He concentrated all his mental energy on the meeting room, stretching out his hand as if he could reach out and touch Hux with it. He knew he couldn't tamper with Hux’s mind to keep it alert, nor make his body to stay upright without the risk of severely hurting Hux, so Kylo went with his backup plan. He waited for the door to close behind Hux and focused on the control panel next to it. He recalled it in as much detail as he could — how many of those systems had he overridden in his time aboard? Kylo strained, his arm shaking from the effort. Kylo could see the control panel, could almost feel it as though he were standing there pressing its buttons himself. Kylo gritted his teeth and gave a shout just as the control panel light turned red and a quiet _click_ locked the door.

Outside the room, Hux’s exhausted, malnourished body finally gave in and he crumpled to the floor in the corridor.

* * *

Kylo dashed off his shuttle the second he'd docked securely. He was racing against the clock — the faster he could get to Hux, the faster he'd be in the medbay under proper medical supervision. 

He found Hux still unconscious outside. He could hear Phasma inside comming for help, as well as some of the more boisterous members of High Command pounding on the doors and shouting for Hux. The whole operation hadn’t gone quite how Kylo had planned, but it would have to do.

He crouched beside Hux’s prone form and looped his arm around Hux’s back and the other under the crook of his knees, scooping him up. Kylo was shocked at how easy it was to lift Hux, how light he was for a man of his height. Still, Kylo decided not to dwell on it and concentrated on getting him to medbay, before returning to free the trapped dignitaries.

* * *

When Hux opened his eyes, all he could see was white. The white of his thin medbay sheet, the white of the curtains around his bed.

“General, you’re awake,” said the medic droid next to his bed. The droid beeped a couple of times, grating Hux’s headache.

“Fantastic observation,” Hux quipped. He tried to get up, but the droid scolded him.

“Please lie still, sir. You must rest.”

“I’ve rested. I have a summit to run,” Hux said. “How long have I been here?”

“Three hours, sir.”  
  
_Three hours!_ The panic was instantaneous. _What did he miss? Where is the rest of High Command? Are the meetings still happening? Who is running the summit in his stead? Do they know where he is? What do they think?_

“Three hours is more than sufficient.” Hux swung his legs off the bed, only to realise that he was no longer wearing his uniform, but a white medbay gown. “Give me my uniform,” he ordered the droid.

“Sir, I can’t let you leave.”

 “I’m the karking **General** ,” Hux hissed, his anger rising. “I don’t need you to **let** me do anything.”

“Sir, we need to replenish your vital fluids,” the droid said, gesturing to the needle in Hux’s hand, connected to a drip. “You are severely dehydrated and deficient in a number of essential vitamins and nutrients. Have you been eating, General?”

“I can take the fluid drip with me,” Hux said, ignoring the droid’s question. “I understand my condition, likely better than you do. If you don’t let me—”  
  
“With all due respect sir, section v, subsection a., article 3 of the Policy on Medical Affairs Aboard the _Finalizer_ states that nobody admitted to medbay may be discharged until they are deemed fit to do so by a member of the medbay staff. This policy has been in effect since—”  
  
Swiftly, Hux reaches down behind the droid’s back and switched it off. “I know, I **approved** the damn policy,” Hux snapped.

Wasting no time, Hux threw back the sheet and got up. He swayed slightly and leaned on the bedframe for support. Hux then set about looking for his uniform, narrowing his eyes to focus. He tried to bend down, but a sharp pain in his left hand stopped him, reminding him that he was still hooked up to the fluid drip.  
  
Hux growled in frustration and grasped the stand holding the bag of fluid. It was getting in the way of the hunt for his uniform. He placed his hand on top of the needle in his other hand and was just about to pull off the medical tape to remove the needle when an unmistakable modulated voice interrupted him.

“General, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Kylo Ren got up from his chair and came in through the gap in the curtains.

“You’re not me,” Hux retorted.

“I know. If I were, you’d be in better condition. I already told you to take better care of yourself.”  
  
“That is none of your concern,” Hux said curtly.  
  
“Excuse me,” said a third voice. Both Hux and Kylo turned around to look at the newcomer, a woman that Hux estimated was in her late 20s with light brown hair pulled back in a bun. She was accompanied by a mouse droid.  
  
“I’m Dr. Kaesi Maadeia. I was alerted when MD-17 was switched off,” she said to Hux.

Hux released a long breath and closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to deal with any of this right now. Every second he was there was a second he wasn't at the meeting where he should be. 

“Dr. Maadeia. This is a lot of unnecessary fuss. I’ve had my rest and now I’m going to leave,” Hux stated. “Give me my uniform,” he ordered.  
  
“Sir, I cannot discharge you. It would be unethical of me to permit you to leave in your current state. We also have a couple of assessments to complete that we couldn’t do while you were sleeping,” Maadeia said. “Your co-operation is appreciated, General.”

 _They’re going to find out,_ the voice said. _They’re going to find out and there’s nothing you can do. Look where you’ve got yourself._  
  
_I know_ , Hux thought. _They were bound to find out sooner or later. Maybe someone will even care._ Hux knows that his diagnoses from when he was in school were in his medical files. They hadn’t come up until now.  
  
“I agree to co-operate, Dr. Maadeia. The sooner this is over, the sooner I can leave,” Hux stated, making up his mind.  
  
“Very good, sir.” Maadeia took a fresher scale from the mouse droid and set it down behind Hux. Instinctively, Hux turned around and stepped on the scale and looked down for a number but found nothing displayed. He was about to say something, but Maadeia spoke first.  
  
“Remain facing me, sir,” Maadeia said gently.

Hux’s heartbeat quickened. _No, please, no._ Memories of the time he spent in the Academy physician’s office and in the medbay came flooding back to Hux; all the times they weighed him backwards so he couldn’t see the number; all the meals he had to eat under supervision; all the hours he spent crying and feeling so utterly _useless._

“I can’t do that,” Hux whispered. “I need to know.”

“It’s currently best-practice not to let the patient see the number,” Maadeia said. “Please turn around so I can activate the scale, sir.”  
  
Hux didn't move. He blinked furiously, his lips trembling and his nostrils flaring as he tried to stop himself from bursting into tears. Hux stared at the ground, clenching his ungloved hands into fists so hard that his nails dug into his skin. _Good,_ the voice said. _Feel it. You deserve this pain._

“Sir, please turn around,” Maadeia repeated. “I need you to turn around so we can complete this assessment.” Hux acted as if he hadn't heard her and remained in the same position.

There was a faint hissing sound as Kylo unlatched his mask and cradled it under his arm.

“General Hux,” Kylo said quietly, “Look at me.” Hux continued to glare at the floor, his vision becoming blurry with tears. Kylo tried again.

“Hux. Look at me.”

Agonisingly slowly, Hux turned around.  
  
“That’s **General** Hux to you,” Hux snarled. He raised his head and met Kylo’s gaze. Kylo’s eyes were deep brown pools, far more sympathetic and warm than he had expected. Hux had never paid attention to Kylo’s eyes, not that he could see them all that well through the mask most of the time.

“That’s it. Look at me, now. Look at me,” Kylo said. “Keep looking at me. You’re going to be all right.”

Hux felt as though an elastic band had snapped inside his chest and he could no longer hold off his tears. He covered his mouth and nose as the tears started to flow freely. There was a faint _plink_ , the sound of water hitting the metal scale. Hux did his best to keep eye contact with Kylo, but he was crying so much that he couldn't see him.

“Thank you, sir,” Maadeia said. “You can get down now.” 

Hux stepped down, gasping and hiccupping as he allowed the rest of his body to respond to his crying impulse.

“It’s all right, sir. You did perfectly,” Maadeia said. “Now, I’m going to ask you a few questions about your eating habits.”  
  
“I’ve had enough,” Hux said, his voice cracking. “Let me go now. Please.”

Maadeia paused and considered the sight before her. The General really was distraught and she could send him the questions to fill out later. _Yes_ , she thought, _that’s a fair compromise_. After all, she shouldn’t do anything that might exacerbate his already fragile state. 

“I will discharge you on the following conditions,” Maadeia said. “First, you must keep the fluid drip in for another two hours. Secondly, you will eat a meal, preferably two, today. Thirdly, I will send my questions to your datapad and you will send me responses by this evening. Finally, come back tomorrow. Any time that is convenient for you. Oh, and I’m prescribing you some vitamin supplements. Just follow the instructions on the bottle. Can you abide by those?”

Wordlessly, Hux nodde, his sobs subsiding.  
  
“Good. Let me go and fetch your uniform and datatpad,” she said, and exited through the curtains, leaving Kylo and Hux alone.  
  
“Hux—” Kylo began.

“Don’t speak to me!” 

“All right,” Kylo mumbled, more to himself than to Hux.

Maadeia returned with Hux’s things, the vitamins, and a box of tissues. Hux snatched all of them from her as though she were holding the last box of chocolates left in the Galaxy. He pulled out a tissue and dried his eyes.

“Ren, let us allow General Hux some privacy,” Maadeia said. Kylo nodded in agreement and they both left. Hux heard their voices in hushed whispers outside the curtains, not enough to hear what exactly they were saying, but enough to know that they were talking about him.

“I can fucking hear you, you know!” Hux shouted. They had no right to talk about him as though he were not there.

He untied his medbay gown and changed into his uniform. Already, Hux felt a little better. He had always liked his uniform; it flattered his figure and made him feel more like himself. Even so, he was sure that he looked dreadful after his most unbecoming crying fit. _Oh, if High Command could see you now_ , the voice taunted. _The defeated General Hux who can’t even look after himself, let alone run a ship! General Orikan was right!_

Hux agreed. He knew he should be at the summit — they would be part of the way through receiving intelligence reports, if they hadn't already begun the inventory. But the thought of having to stand before them all again made Hux feel sick; he didn't think he can handle their stares and their judgements and trying to guess what they’re all thinking, not after this.  
  
In order to decide what to do, Hux thought, he needed to see if there are any updates on the situation. He fired up his datapad and winced at the glare of the screen. To his relief, there was a message from Phasma. He opened it, hoping it will shed some light on what he missed.

From: Captain Phasma  
To: General A. Hux  
Subject: Summit Contingency 

General. Shortly after you left the meeting, there was a circuit shortage in the room. Everyone was locked inside for about ten minutes, until Kylo Ren unlocked the room. We think there may have been a bug over at the central control centre that the technicians are investigating. I tried to comm you but your channel was offline. The story Lieutenant Mitaka and I came up with is that you’re suffering from dehydration. In the meantime, I’m your designate and I am delivering the presentation based on the most recent version of the notes you sent me. Please reply upon receipt.  
  
Regards,  
  
Captain Phasma. 

A sense of relief flooded through Hux, as though he just got into a warm bath. Trust Phasma to save the situation. It was not good, Hux thought, but Phasma’s cunning and level-headedness certainly helped. She would be just fine, Hux knew. After she already defended herself that morning without so much as an apology or a misplaced angry word, Hux had utmost confidence in her.  
  
Hux typed out a hasty reply. 

From: General A. Hux  
To: Captain Phasma  
Subject: RE: Summit Contingency 

Received. Will update you. Thanks _._  
  
Regards,  
  
General A. Hux

“General?” Maadeia called. “Are you all right in there?”  
  
“I’m done,” Hux replied.  
  
Maadeia came back in and gestured for Hux to hold out his hand. Hux rolled his eyes, but offered it to her, limp-wristed, as though he were an emperor expecting his subjects to kneel and kiss it. Maadeia checked the IV and reiterated Hux’s discharge conditions.  
  
“Do you have everything, General?”  
  
“I believe I do.”

“Good. You’re free to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
  
She walked Hux out of the curtained section and then turned to Kylo.

“Thank you for bringing him in,” Maadeia said.

Hux pauses. _Kylo was the one responsible for taking him to medbay? Why would he bother?_

“I will escort the General back to his quarters,” Kylo said by way of reply. 

“You will do no such thing!” Hux protested, only to find Kylo’s hand on his lower back, gently supporting him and encouraging him to move forward.

“Ren, get your hands off me. I can walk by myself. I know where my quarters are. I don’t need you to ‘escort’ me. I will not tolerate this patronisation,” Hux snaps. “I also do not recall giving you permission to take me to medbay in the first place.”  
  
“General, I found you unconscious outside the meeting room. If it weren’t for me, they all would have found you in seconds and you wouldn’t have got the medical attention you clearly need.”  

“That’s none of your business.”  
  
“Hux, I can’t unsee what I saw.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name, is it not?”  
  
“Names are meaningless without titles.”

“No they’re not. Anyway, that’s beside the point. Come on,” Kylo said, his hand still on Hux’s back.

“I said don’t touch me. If you want to be useful, you can push the IV stand,” Hux said, a note of his usual disdainful bossiness coming back into his voice. Kylo turned away from Hux and smiled, and took hold of the stand with the hand not holding his mask. _Hux is letting me come with him,_ Kylo thought. _There’s a start._

They didn't talk the rest of the way back to Hux’s rooms. Once they got there, Hux tried to keep Kylo out.  
  
“Ren. Give me the IV. There, you’ve taken me back like you said. You can leave,” Hux said.

“I’m not going to do that,” Kylo says quietly. “Are you hungry?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I felt you in the Force and I need answers.”

“Well, I don’t know any more than you do. I can’t help you. Now, leave me.”

“Are you hungry?” Kylo repeated.

“You asked that already,” replied Hux.

“And you didn’t answer. How about this, then: if I brought you food, would you eat it?”  
  
“I—” Hux hesitated a fraction of a second too long, and the corners of Kylo’s mouth lift slightly into a smile.  
  
“I’ll be right back,” Kylo said, the hem of his robes disappearing out the door after him.

Hux pulled the fluid drip stand over to his bed as he lay down, not caring to take off his boots or his uniform. He got out his datapad and typed another message to Phasma, informing her that he would be absent for the rest of the day. He couldn't face dealing with High Command, he was too anxious and unfocused. Besides, Phasma had been itching for a challenge ever since Starkiller. She felt the need to regain her honour, Hux knew, though he didn’t think she ever lost it in the first place.  
  
Hux would like to tell Phasma and Mitaka exactly what happened, he felt that he owed them that much, but he couldn't think where to begin. _Maybe later,_ Hux thought.  
  
The voice was blissfully quiet. _Perhaps it acknowledges that I suffered enough for one day,_ Hux thought bleakly. 

* * *

Kylo stood in the mess hall, not quite sure what to do with himself. He could count on one hand the number of times he had eaten in here and didn't really know how to go about acquiring food for Hux. He tried to think of the foods Hux would like. _Well, he doesn’t like anything at the moment,_ Kylo thought.

It was part of Kylo’s training to fast intermittently so Kylo thought of the food that he was most excited to eat to break his fast. _Fresh fruit and vegetables,_ Kylo thought. _Also chocolate. And bread. And probably some other food groups._  
  
The variety of food aboard the _Finalizer_ was better than normal because of all the extra rations that Hux ordered for the summit. Kylo went up to the server.

“You will give me strawberries, blueberries, apples, a loaf of 12-grain bread, some butter, cheese, a knife, hummus, and some dark chocolate,” Kylo said.  
  
“I haven’t been authorised to release those items at this time. The meal plan for the summit is very specific and most of those items were ordered for that purpose,” the server replied.

“You will give me strawberries, blueberries, apples, a loaf of 12-grain bread, some butter, cheese, a knife, hummus, and some dark chocolate,” Kylo said. “And you’ll ignore the summit meal instructions.”

“You will give me strawberries, blueberries, apples, a loaf of 12-grain bread, some butter, cheese, a knife, hummus, and some dark chocolate,” Kylo repeated, waving his hand. “And you’ll ignore the summit meal instructions.”  
  
“I will give you strawberries, blueberries, apples, a loaf of 12-grain bread, some butter, cheese, a knife, hummus, and some dark chocolate,” said the server. “And I’ll ignore the summit meal instructions.

 _That was a piece of cake_ , Kylo thought to himself. _Damn, I should have tried to get cake as well. Maybe next time._ He took the tray and headed back to Hux’s quarters.  
  
Hux was dozing on his bed by the time Kylo got back. He opened his eyes when Kylo entered.

“I brought you something to eat,” he said. “You don’t have to eat it now. I’m leaving it here for you.” Kylo placed the tray on Hux’s bedside table. Hux opened his mouth to protest, to ask Kylo to put it further away from him where he could not see it or smell it, but Kylo continued to speak.

[Art by [4n0th3rm3]](http://4n0th3rm3.tumblr.com/)

“It’s okay to eat this,” Kylo said. “You need this so that you can think. You deserve to have the energy you need to lead the First Order. Your body can handle it. It’s designed for digestion. You’ll feel better once you’ve had something.”

“You don’t know how I’ll feel,” Hux murmured sleepily. “You don’t.”

“Maybe not. But I know you’re allowed to eat. It’s your choice.”

Hux said nothing in reply.

“I’m leaving now. I’ll come by again later,” Kylo said. On his way out, he could swear he heard a muffled “Thank you” from the direction of Hux’s bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Notes:
> 
> \- Kyber crystals change colour once they’ve been selected. Kylo’s getting a black lightsaber, or  
> \- For those of you not from the UK, [this is a digestive biscuit](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Digestive_biscuit).  
> \- Since Kylo has completed his training at this point, I headcanon that one of his newfound abilities is to use the Force from a greater distance than before.  
> \- My inspiration for Kylo being able to sense Hux’s distress was the scene from Attack of the Clones in which Anakin boasts about being able to “sense everything going on in that room.”  
> \- I think there’s sufficient canon evidence that droids can be switched off manually. In The Empire Strikes back, Leia switches C-3PO off. In the novelisation of The Force Awakens, Rey switches BB-8 off.  
> \- I’m not sure how one gets dressed with an IV in the hand. If anyone has any information about this, please let me know and I can go back and edit it for accuracy.  
> \- I’m going to confirm right now that Hux is not Force-sensitive in this fic. The Force works in mysterious ways. It also ships Kylux. 
> 
> Personal notes:
> 
> \- I couldn’t figure out whether refreshments would arrive via droid, officer, or Stormtrooper so I just avoided mentioning it.  
> \- It’s highly unlikely that the medbay would have discharged Hux like that. In my experience, they don’t trust us to know what is best for us.  
> \- I have, however, been weighed without being allowed to look at the number. It’s not a fun time.
> 
> **If you or anyone you know is suffering from an eating disorder, I've listed some resources that may help. Although some services are location-specific, many of them also offer information and remote support. I’m on[tumblr](http://thethirstorder.tumblr.com) and I’m available to talk and offer support in whatever way I can.**
> 
> [National Eating Disorders Association](http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/) (NEDA)  
> [The National Association for Males with Eating Disorders](http://namedinc.org/) (NAMED)  
> [National Eating Disorder Information Centre](http://nedic.ca/) (NEDIC)  
> [Eating Disorder Hope](http://www.eatingdisorderhope.com/)  
> [Beat](http://www.b-eat.co.uk/)
> 
> _I got more upset writing this chapter than the one before it. Please let me know what you thought. It means the world when I get comments on this fic because I still can't believe that this is the kind of writing that people want to read. It comes from a very personal place and I'd love to hear from you even if all you say is that you've read the fic._
> 
> _Thank you so much for your support, truly. <3_


	4. Trust Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo tries to understand what the Force is telling him, help Hux, and build his lightsaber. Hux battles his demons and makes mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Content warning for in-depth depiction of anxiety and living with an eating disorder. Specific warnings for one use of a bathroom scale (no numbers mentioned), masturbation, sexual dysfunction, clothing not fitting correctly after weight loss, detailed descriptions of eating fruit, shame, guilt, and regret after eating, the desire to purge.**

The screech of metal against metal accompanied by a faint humming sound woke Hux up. He groaned and pulled his pillow over his head in an attempt to drown out the noises. Hux threw the pillow to the floor in frustration when it failed to help. He buried himself in his duvet and that seemed to quiet the room for a while.

But then he heard drilling, as though the source was drilling right into his skull. Hux groaned again and curled inwards, drawing his knees up to his chest. Placing his forehead on his knees and squeezing his eyes shut, Hux shouted “Shut up!” as loudly as he could.  
  
He didn't expect his yelling to have any effect whatsoever so he was shocked when all the noises stopped. Hux opened one eye and sat up, only to see Kylo Ren hunched over his desk.  
  
At the sight of Ren, Hux startled and pulled the covers up to his armpits, despite the fact he was still wearing his uniform and boots from the day before. How long had Ren has been in his room? Had he stayed while he slept?  
  
“What the hell are you doing?” Hux scolded.

“Multi-tasking,” Kylo replied without looking up. Hux couldn't see what Kylo was working on, and nor did he particularly care to.  
  
“Giving me a migraine, is what you’re doing,” Hux said. “What time is it?”  
  
Kylo hesitated. “It’s just past ten in the morning,” he admitted.

“What the fuck, Ren? Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” Hux kicked off his comforter and leaped up, only to find that he got up too quickly and had to sit down again because of the headrush.

“Judging by your reaction just now, you’d be even less impressed if I woke you earlier.”

Hux buried his face in his hands and his furious words came out muffled. “For fuck’s sake! Now I’m fucking late for the summit! And I have to shower and shave and comb my hair and find a clean uniform and check my m—”

“And eat breakfast,” Kylo interrupted.  
  
Hux snapped his head up and glared at Ren. “So that’s what this is about? I refuse to discuss the matter any further.”

“Have you checked your messages?” Ren asked, changing the subject.  
  
“I was about to mention that when you interrupted me." 

“Go on, then.” 

Hux rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically as he pulled up his messages. The most recent one arrived while he was sleeping.

From: Captain Phasma  
To: General A. Hux  
Subject: RE: RE: Summit Contingency 

The first session of the day began three standard minutes ago and we are operating under the assumption that you will not be joining us in person. I have attached the minutes from the sessions that you missed yesterday. High Command approved your proposal in principle with a vote of 21-4. It is likely that its funding model will be amended today and the final vote will take place as scheduled in the final session. I continue to act as your designate until instructed otherwise.  
  
Regards,  
  
Captain Phasma.

Hux reread the message over several times. He was always grateful for Phasma’s resourcefulness. They’d discussed the possibility, however unlikely, that if something should prevent Hux from attending the meetings, Phasma would execute Hux's exact wishes. She knew what he wanted: what he was willing to compromise on, and what was non-negotiable. 

Hux thought his health was good enough that he could join them if he wanted, only was now past ten o’clock and he’d be arriving well into the first session. Hux considered waiting until that meeting ended, but then he’d be drawing attention to his all-too-conspicuous absence beforehand, and then he’d have to face them all, look them in the eyes and play along with the stupid “dehydration” story…

No, he couldn't do it. He couldn’t return, not now. The very prospect made Hux anxious. He replied to Phasma, confirmed his absence and thanked her.

“So you’ll stay here?” Kylo asked.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re not going to the summit,” Kylo said, inquisitively enough to be unsure, but not enough for it to sound like a question.

“None of your business.”

“I told Captain Phasma that I was with you,” Ren said. When Hux looked over at Kylo in shock, he clarified. “I didn’t give her the specifics, no need to worry. I just said that I was with you. I didn’t say where.”

Hux didn't know what to do with this information. He decided that he may as well get up and attempt to read though Phasma’s notes and send her some of his feedback. It’s one thing to tell someone what to say and how to vote, but the conversations in the meetings are unpredictable and Hux had to trust Phasma’s judgement. Which he did, of course, but he’d have preferred to have as much input as possible.

“Hux?” Kylo asked.

Hux opened his mouth to add his title, but it occured to him that Ren might be doing it deliberately to wind him up, and he didn't want to give him the continued satisfaction. He settled for a waspish “What, Ren?” instead.

“You’re not going,” Kylo re-stated.

“No, I’m not.”

“Good.”

“It makes no difference to you.”

With that, Hux stood up, walked over to a large panel in his room and pushed a button. The panel slid open to reveal several clean uniform sets, most of which Kylo has never seen Hux wear. On one side, Kylo saw uniforms of various colours and with different rank stripes on the left sleeve.

On the other side, Hux kept two styles of his regular uniform. One was black and shiny; the parade dress that, for some reason, Hux liked to wear every day. The other was a charcoal grey and bore the same General’s rank stripes. Kylo couldn't help but imagine Hux wearing the grey uniform. Kylo thought the colour would bring out Hux’s hair beautifully, but it wouldn’t do much to help his pallor. He’d have to see Hux wearing it to make a proper judgement.  
  
As Hux grabbed one of the black uniforms and stomped pointedly towards his refresher, Kylo wondered whether Hux owned any civilian clothes.

Kylo hadn't worn civilian clothes since he became Snoke’s apprentice. He'd worn various robes of his own design over the years, but he wouldn’t consider his clothes a uniform, not in the same way that Hux wore the same thing every day.

Hux closed the fresher door behind him and started to shed his clothes. He was glad to be out of them; they were creased and dirty. He stepped into his shower, a sonic this time. He didn't feel like luxuriating under a water shower, not when his productivity for the day was already shot. He didn't feel like thinking about his body and his physical state of being. He’d rather ignore the fact that he had a body in the first place.  
  
As Hux felt the sonic cleanse the sleep from his skin, he tried to come up with some kind of plan to preserve himself the next time he saw High Command. Hux contemplated attending the final session, where the executive vote on the amended proposal would take place. Then there was the evening social that he missed the day before. _We’ll see how the day goes,_ Hux thought to himself.

Hux got out of the sonic and stepped right onto his scale. He looked down at the number in disbelief. It was impossibly low, not a number he expected to see at all. It was a number that made no mathematical sense. He couldn't try to guess how inaccurate the scale is, so he resolved to re-weigh himself when he visited the medbay later. _I’ll **make** them tell me. I’ll find out. _  
  
He turned to his naked reflection in the full-length mirror. It hung in the same spot where the last one hung, the one that he punched and had replaced the next day. It had always been impossible for Hux to try and determine his weight this way, but that didn't stop him from trying.

Hux looked himself in the eye and all over. Although he stood perfectly still, the image in the mirror kept changing, shifting, never quite in focus. He took in his pale skin, the self-inflicted grey and purple bruises on his hips and collarbones. He turned to the side and sucked in his stomach, making a concave shape. _You should look like that all the time,_ the voice said. _You’re not perfect. Not yet._  
  
_No, but I will be,_ Hux thought. _I will be._  
  
Hux bent over and frowned at the creases that appeared on his skin — natural folds visible because of his position, but which he viewed as rolls of fat. He stood up straight again, disgusted at himself. In the mirror, the imaginary fat rolls vanished, but Hux felt them like leeches clinging to his body and draining the life from him.

That familiar self-loathing bit him and the overwhelming need to feel something, _anything_ , other than that, overtook him. Clearly, pain didn't work, all the starving and purging and digging his nails into his palms.

What if he tried to do the opposite?

 _I don’t deserve it_ , Hux thought, but what he would do to leave his body even for a split second, to feel pleasure that transcends physicality and took him away for a few thoughtless, blissful moments.

He would do anything.  
  
Still looking at his reflection, Hux traced one finger down from his navel — slowly, experimentally — to his cock. He could remember the sensation he craved. Hux hungered for it but unlike food, he hadn't denied himself wilfully. His self-neglect was collateral damage, an unfortunate casualty of his condition. Sex with another person was out of the question; who would want to see Armitage Hux naked when he could barely stand to see himself?

Hux took his cock in the palm of his hand and rubbed his thumb over the head. He gave it a few gentle tugs, but he felt nothing. Hux squeezed a little tighter, making a fist and trying a few thrusts. Still nothing.  
  
He stepped over to the cabinet over the sink and found a bottle of lubricant. Hurriedly, Hux squeezed it into his hand, not caring when some of it escaped his palm and dripped to the floor. He slicked his cock, shivering at its cold wetness. Oddly, the feeling gave him hope; if he could feel that, maybe he’d be able to feel the empty high he sought. 

Hux began to pump his cock in earnest, fast and tight, just how he liked, searching for the pleasure that would well deep inside him and spread its warmth throughout his body, that feeling of forgetting. As he stroked his cock, he thought he felt a spark low in his groin, the beginning of arousal. He continued his pace, but the spark vanished like a flicker of flame on a match, snuffed out in the wind. He tried again and again, unable to keep the fire alight.

Hux touched himself with his other hand, compulsively, feverishly. He circled a nipple, hoping to feel it harden under the pad of his finger. He found the crease where his hip met his thigh, ran his hand over his waist, wondering if he really could feel his ribs or whether that was a trick of the mirror too. But every touch felt cold and his body couldn't respond.  
  
Hux sped up his pace as much as he could. He panted with exertion and maddening need — but his cock didn't respond, not so much as a twitch or a raise. He twisted his fist over the head of his cock. Usually that would do it; it’s a favourite finishing move when he brought himself off — but this time, it did nothing.  
  
Defeated and still panting, Hux let go of his soft cock and wiped away the lube with a clinical precision. It was water-based so he had no need of the sonic again. He looked at his reflection again and saw his eyes glitter. 

 _You’re broken,_ the voice said. _Defective. Can’t even get it up. Useless. You’re not worth a two-credit fuck._

Hux knew it was true.  
_  
_ Numbly, routinely, he moved on with his morning, brushing his teeth with one hand and combing his hair with the other. This proved to be easier than he expected and he made a note to incorporate it into his future routine.

He put on his uniform and pulled his belt around his waist. He tightened it, only to find that he couldn't close it properly. One of the ends was too long and there’s nowhere for him to put it. Hux shook his head in disbelief, he wasn't not thin enough for this to be a problem, he couldn't be.  
  
But he couldn't get the belt to sit right around his waist in its regulation position. It slid down to just above his hips and ruined the shape of his uniform. His trousers didn't fit right around the hips either, he was going to have to pin them so they were tight enough. Hux could put in an order for alterations, but he didn't want to catch anyone’s attention, not if he could help it. Hux resolved to fix them in the evening, for he’d already spent the better part of an hour in his fresher. 

When he finally exited the fresher, Hux found Kylo sitting in the same spot. He wasn't making as much noise as before but he was tinkering with something in his hands.

“Why are you still here? Leave,” Hux commanded. “Whatever Force-nonsense you’re doing, surely you can do in your own quarters.”

Kylo swivelled around in his chair, still holding his project. Hux saw that it was a little glowing rock, a Kyber crystal. But it was unlike any that Hux had ever seen in any holorecord — it was black and emitted an unnerving greyish light.

“I put the food in your conservator,” Ren said, gesturing to the appliance next to Hux’s desk.

“We’re not having this conversation.”

“Yes we are. There’s fresh fruit and I didn’t want it to spoil,” Kylo said.

“Great, you’ve told me where my food is. I know where to find it. That’s magnificent, just perfect,” Hux said, sarcasm cutting through his words. “If you won’t leave, tell me why you’re here, why you’re doing this.”

“I need to be near you to determine why the Force called me to you.”

“That’s bantha fodder, Ren.”

“It’s true. Doesn’t matter if you like it or not.”

Hux made no reply. He went back and sat on his bed, cross-legged, and opened up his datapad to read through Phasma’s notes. After several minutes of silence, Hux looked up to see Kylo standing over him, holding the food tray.  
  
“You’re allowed to eat, you know. You’re starving,” Ren said. “It’s good for you.” Kylo paused, before adding: “I promise.” 

Hux swallowed. He knows Kylo was right; he’s worked for several days on nothing and he couldn't risk feeling faint again. But the thought of having to eat something, chew it and swallow it and feel it sitting there in his stomach made Hux feel sick. He couldn't do that, he couldn't  
.   
_But you have to_ , Hux thought to himself. _You’ve no choice_.  
  
He hated this lack of control over his life, feeling like everything he worked for was falling apart, just like Starkiller Base. Hux hated him, hated himself. _Hated, hated, hated._  
  
Wordlessly, Hux took the tray from Ren. Just as Ren said, there was fresh fruit, along with an assortment of other foods: carbs and protein, something that looked suspiciously like a chocolate bar, and a glass of water. Hux never expected Ren to have made such a well-curated selection. Hux looked back up at Kylo.  
  
“You really do have to leave. I — I take issue with — I can’t, not in front of — you can’t stay here. Not while I — not while I do **this** ,” Hux stammered.  
  
To his surprise, Ren nodded, his eyes soft and understanding. “Let me know when you’re done,” he said. Kylo stood up, revealing the tools scattered on Hux’s desk. There was a chunk of metal there too, something with wires in it. Ren took the metal object and a couple of tools. He put the crystal in his pocket and walked out of the room.

* * *

Kylo sat in the corridor just outside Hux’s quarters with the tools, the metal object that intended for the hilt of his new saber, and the crystal out in front of him. He hadn’t wanted to leave Hux alone overnight. Besides, Hux’s quarters were quiet, almost as quiet as his own and they were a perfectly acceptable place to meditate.

He’d meditated for a bit yesterday but his thoughts kept returning to Hux. _Why hadn’t anyone noticed before?_ He knew Hux struggled with food, he’d witnessed it firsthand on the shuttle to Snoke’s base. But he hadn’t known quite how deeply entrenched his problems were.  
  
It unnerved Ren that nobody had noticed Hux’s self-destructive behaviours and that he himself wouldn’t have known, if it weren’t for that chance encounter in Hux’s fresher. But the Force, the Force had called him to Hux for some reason. Since then, he’d not been able to look at Hux the same way.  
  
Ren had considered talking to the Supreme Leader about it, but what would he say? _“Supreme Leader, the Force is drawing me to my disgraced co-commander and I don’t know why.”_ No, Kylo couldn't tell Snoke.  
  
Sitting there in the hallway, Kylo thought about his most recent training, all that he had learned. He picked up the Kyber crystal and turned it over in his palm to strengthen his connection to the Force. He’d learned some more advanced lightsaber combat techniques and widened the range of his Force sensitivity. Kylo and Snoke also studied the old legend about the Sith Lord who discovered a death-cheating secret.  
  
_But none of these bear any obvious connection to General Hux,_ Kylo thought He resolved to keep an eye on Hux, if only for the sake of figuring out the will of the Force.  
  
Kylo turned back to his saber construction. He decided to work on it until Hux invited him back in.

* * *

Now alone with the tray, Hux eyed it warily, not knowing where to start. Kylo left him with a lot of choice and not much direction. Hux didn't think he could handle the carbohydrates, not first at least, so he looked at the fruit selection. The berries looked tasty but Hux wanted something he could take his time with, something that required a little preparation. He needed that to make sure he was in control, he needed to be able to set his pace. _Not like last time._  
  
Hux drained his water glass as he contemplated his choice. The drink made him feel bloated and nauseous, sitting in his belly like that. Hux heard it moving around inside him, thrashing like an eel against the walls of his empty stomach. He resisted his impulse to throw up; he couldn't purge water. He needed it if he wanted to eat this meal.

Hux picked up an apple and took the knife to it, slicing it slowly, methodically. He cut it into the tiniest bite-sized pieces, before taking one in his hand. He stared at it, inspecting its red skin and glistening juice, its off-white centre. Hux brought it up to his lips and allowed the centre of the apple piece to touch them. He licked off the juice before taking a deep breath and popping the whole slice into his mouth.  
  
It had a slightly sour tang, but still tasted crisp and clean. Hux chewed on it, his thoughts on the texture as he ground it to a pulp in his mouth. The taste reminded him of his days as a cadet when he was out doing field training and had to forage for his own food.

Apples were a favourite of his back then; they only required picking and washing. Hunting was fun too, but Hux could never stand the skinning and cooking process. He couldn’t cook anything because thinking about how to put a whole meal together sent him into a spiral of panic. He’d always preferred to stick to fruits and vegetables, and oftentimes the food he found while training was better than whatever synthsust they served at the Academy.  
  
Hux chewed the apple piece until there was barely anything left to chew on. He closed his eyes and swallowed it, doing his best to ignore the sensation of it travelling down his gullet. Instead, he focused on the aftertaste and tried to identify the difference between that and the actual food taste.

His first instinct was pure elation — he managed to eat something! Maybe there was hope for him, maybe he could leave this all behind and regain his strength and not be ruled by this disorder anymore. Maybe he’d feel energised and motivated and satisfied again. Maybe he could enjoy food as he once did, maybe he could appreciate it for its taste, not just for its nutritional value. Maybe he wouldn’t have to hide in his room because he couldn't face eating in front of people, maybe he could control himself enough not to have to spend his evenings bent over the lavatory basin. _Maybe._

This joy quickly faded when Hux felt a sharp pain shoot through his stomach. It was his body responding to days of neglect, he knew. It couldn't handle the sudden appearance of sustenance. _Why did you eat that?_ the voice said. _Now you’re in pain. See, look, it’s bad for you. No, no, no!_

 _It’s not,_ Hux thought feebly. _It’s not._ He so badly wanted to be free of this awful mindset; when he was building Starkiller Base, he barely thought about it. He took his meals three times a day — _how had he done that?_ — and he ate in the mess hall like everyone else. Such actions were unthinkable now. _But maybe one day…_

 _Without this, you have no control,_ the voice said. _No order. No structure. You’ll just plod on and on, through the ashes of Starkiller with no direction, no purpose. What are you without this? Just a weak-willed failure._

“You’re wrong,” Hux muttered aloud, and the voice died down. “I’m a General of the First Order,” Hux said to himself. “And I’m not going to have a breakdown over a fucking **apple**.” 

Hux swallowed, tears welling in his eyes. He tried to blink them away furiously, but they escaped, running down his cheeks. He wiped his eyes and reached for another piece of the apple. The salt of his tears mingled with it, but Hux didn't care. He could **taste** it, and it was so real and wholesome and pure.  
  
Hux cried quietly with relief, with rage, with hope, with shame, and with confusion, because he hadn’t been able to eat this kind of food for weeks. He knew he was doing himself a favour and that he needed the nutrition and energy to think, to move, to command. But the physical feeling in his treacherous body disgusted him — _how could something so vile be good?_  
  
“Hux.”  
  
Ren’s voice interrupted his thoughts. Kylo was back in his room, but Hux wasn't as angry as he expected to be.

“I thought I’d come and check on you. It’s been a while…” Kylo said softly, placing his belongings back on Hux’s desk.

“I’m fine,” Hux said, and for a moment, he believed it.

“General, you’re crying.”

“I know.”

“May I?” Ren asked, gesturing to Hux’s bed. Hux hesitated for a second, but he nodded. Kylo perched himself on the corner. He reached for Hux’s tray and picked up an apple piece.

“You cut this yourself?”

“Mhm.” Hux sniffled and wiped the last of his tears from his face.

“They all look like that. All the slices. They’re neat, orderly,” Kylo remarked. “Just like you.”

“And you hate them just as much,” Hux said without thinking.

Kylo paused. “I don’t hate you, Hux.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it,” Hux said. “You do. You hate me when I tell you to follow orders. You hate me when I remind you of the reports you owe me. You hate having to clear your missions with me. You’ve said as much.”  
  
“No. I hated who I thought you were. But the Force, the Force has shown me so many things. About me. About you.”

“I don’t believe in that nonsense,” Hux said. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he regreted them. After all, it was Ren who found him, Ren who took him to the medbay, Ren who brought him food. Would he have done all those things if he truly hated him?  
  
“You don’t have to. That doesn’t change the truth,” Kylo said. Kylo brought the apple piece he was holding to Hux’s lips. Hux did not protest; he found the gesture comforting for reasons he couldn't name. He opened his mouth and Kylo placed the morsel on Hux’s tongue. Hux closed his eyes and did his best to savour the flavour and even out his breathing. _Good,_ he told himself. _I’m nourishing my body. I need this. It’s good._  
  
He swallowed.

Kylo knew to take this slowly. When he fasted during his training, he learned that he shouldn’t eat too much too fast. He’d made that mistake the first couple of times and had regretted its interference with his ability to eat properly in the days that followed. Hux needed the same, if not more careful, treatment.

Kylo chose a strawberry and plucked off the green leaves. He fed it to Hux, who crushed the seeds in between his teeth. The sweetness of the fruit danced on his tongue and lingered after he swallowed it.

“How is it?” Kylo asked, preparing another strawberry for Hux.

“It’s… it’s…” Hux tried to form his sentence. _It’s the kindest thing someone has done for me in a long time. It feels like being cared for. It’s tender. It scares me._

But Hux could not say those things to Kylo Ren. 

“It’s all I want right now,” he whispered, like a prayer.

* * *

It took Hux about two hours to declare himself finished. Kylo considered this to be progress though Hux still wouldn't touch the carbohydrates. Almost immediately after Hux said he was finished, he started talking about his physical symptoms unprompted, to Kylo’s surprise. 

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what?” Kylo asked, putting the rest of Hux’s food back in the conservator.  
  
“Eaten all that food.”

“You ate some fruit. It’s a good thing.” 

“It doesn’t feel good.” 

“What do you mean?”

“It feels heavy. I can feel everything I just ate. It’s sitting inside me and it’s changing my shape. It’s changing what I am, how I look, and I can’t control that.” _Except you can_ , said the voice. _You know what to do._

“It’s supposed to be inside you,” Kylo said, resuming his seat on Hux’s bed. “Your body needs time to process it. To turn the nutrients into energy. Besides, it hasn’t changed what you are. You’re still you.”

“Can’t you see?” He stood up and turned sideways, just as he did earlier that morning. He could feel his stomach stretching to accommodate all the food he just ate, he felt as though he’d eaten all his meals in one sitting. _How can a few apple slices and a handful of berries feel like this?_

“Look!” Hux cried, pointing to his middle.

Kylo looked. He couldn't see anything different; there was no sign that Hux had consumed anything at all.

“Hux, it’s all right. Your shape is the same. I can’t see that you’ve eaten at all. You could leave this room and nobody would notice. Your uniform still fits the way it did this morning —” _Ha,_ Hux thought “ — and nothing looks out of place. Trust me, you’re all right.”

But Hux didn't believe Kylo, couldn't believe that he didn't see what Hux saw. He knew that Kylo was just trying to help, but lying never helped anyone. The voice was right: there’s one thing that Hux could do.  
  
“I’ll be right back.” Hux started to get up, but Kylo caught hold of his wrist, knowing and fearful of what Hux intended to do.

“Stop,” Kylo said, without letting go of Hux. “I know what you’re thinking. You don’t have to go in there, you don’t have to make yourself sick. You deserve to eat.”

“You don’t know shit!” Hux snapped. “I have to, you don’t understand! You don’t know how it feels!” Hux cried, placing his free hand just above his belt. “It’s inside me, it’s moving. I need to get it out. Let me go!”

Kylo, still seated on the bed, pulled Hux towards him and wrapped his arms around Hux’s waist. Hux stiffened at the touch. Kylo’s hands were right where he felt the worst and Hux couldn't imagine how repulsive Kylo must have thought he was.

“Don’t touch me, don’t touch me there! It’s disgusting! I’m disgusting!” Hux shouted. He tried to push Kylo off him but Kylo pulled him in closer and moved one of his hands to Hux’s lower back, like he did on the walk back from the medbay.

“You’re not disgusting,” Kylo said. “If you were, I wouldn’t want to touch you.” He felt Hux slacken ever so slightly in his embrace. “You’re not disgusting,” he repeated, caressing Hux’s back and relaxing his hold. “Shhh,” he said. “Sit down.” Kylo took Hux’s wrist again but loosely enough that Hux could snatch it out of Kylo’s grip if he wanted. 

“I’m going to let go of you,” Kylo said quietly. “You’re free to go to your fresher and do whatever you like and I won’t stop you.” Hux flinched. He considered pulling away and lurching towards his fresher. “But I want you to listen to me.” Kylo continued to speak in the same even tone he started with. Hux could leave right now, but something about Kylo’s low, unmodulated natural voice compelled him to stay and calmed his awful thoughts.

_Is he manipulating me with the Force?_

Hux jumped to the conclusion, convinced that he had figured it out. How else could he have calmed down so fast?

“You’re using the Force on me!” Hux accused, panicked. “You say you’re going to let me go but you’re not! You don’t trust me! You want me to fail! You want to ruin me! For what, so you can stay the Supreme Leader’s favourite? Fuck you, Ren! You’re a filthy, manipulative, lying — ”  
  
Before Hux could finish his tirade, Kylo silently dropped his hand from Hux’s wrist.

“… oh,” Hux said.  
  
Kylo let several seconds pass, more than enough time to let Hux go to his fresher if he wanted. But he didn’t. After what felt like an agonisingly long time, Kylo looked up at Hux, his eyes dim with hurt.

“I’ve never used the Force on you, General, not once. I never intend to.” With that, Kylo stood up and walked out of Hux’s quarters without so much as a backward glance.  
  
“Ren, wait! I’m sorry, Ren, I’m so, so, sorry! Ren, come back!” Hux called. “Ren, I’m sorry! Please!” 

But Kylo didn't come back.  
  
All of a sudden, Hux felt very, very empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes:
> 
> \- Hux’s grey uniform comes from the [Visual Dictionary](https://thethirstorder.tumblr.com/post/138898240237/kyluxcollective-i-saw-people-mention-wanting).  
> \- I wanted to address the effect that an eating disorder like Hux’s has on one’s sexual functioning. However, I do not have a penis and I’m not entirely sure I got the mechanics of it right. There’s not much information available about this, even in places that focus on (cisgender) men’s eating disorders. Again, if there’s someone more knowledgeable about this who wants to point me in the right direction, that would be great.  
> \- The reference to Kylo knowing about Hux’s food issues is a reference to [Hold On, We’re Going Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7055254/chapters/16038622).  
> \- The Sith Legend is of course, that of Darth Plagueis the Wise. I have a love-hate relationship with it. On one hand, it's such a meme and it’s hilarious, but on the other hand, it makes it harder for me to include it seriously in this fic. But I did it anyway.  
> \- This chapter has been split into two, and the fic is now six chapters long. The chapter count has been updated to reflect this. It is still subject to change, but I have a very solid framework for how it will end and how we’ll get there. 
> 
> Personal notes:
> 
> \- I think Hux’s anxiety wouldn’t permit him to turn up late to the summit. It’s either he goes or he doesn’t; I’m the same, even with crucial events.  
> \- I tried to brush my teeth and comb my hair at the same time to see if I could do it. It’s totally possible.  
> \- I thoroughly regret writing this thing in the present tense because it’s led to some issues with consistency. I’m sorry if anything is unclear. I don't have a beta reader for this fic so all errors are mine.  
> \- Next chapter: Kylo and Hux make a sincere attempt to work together and Hux goes to medbay for his checkup. 
> 
> _If you read this chapter, I'd really appreciate a comment letting me know what you thought. Thank you, so, so much_.


	5. Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo works on his lightsaber; Hux goes for his checkup. They make plans together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am sincerely sorry for the length of time that it took me to update this fic. My courses kicked my arse this term, but I kicked them right back and passed the year (woohoo!) In addition to that, my province introduced a new law that made it mandatory for all restaurant chains with 20 or more locations to display their [calorie counts on their menus](https://news.ontario.ca/mohltc/en/2016/12/calorie-amounts-coming-to-ontario-menus-beginning-january-1st.html). So that went about as well for me as you can imagine...
> 
> Without further ado, here's the update. **Content warning for in-depth depiction of anxiety and living with an eating disorder. Specific warnings for Hux filling out a questionnaire at his appointment, details of past attempts to treat ED-related behaviour, struggling with the possible benefits and drawbacks of recovery, anxiety about eating in front of others.**

Kylo sat cross-legged on his bed, bouncing one knee erratically. He tried to clear his head enough to meditate, but he couldn't concentrate because his thoughts were racing, unwanted images flooding his mind as though he was watching an entire three-hour holodrama in the span of ten seconds. He tried to sit still but it was no good; his thoughts kept returning to Hux.

 _Ungrateful bastard_ , Kylo thought bitterly. He’s not wrong; there was no obligation on his part to help Hux. _If it weren’t for me, the idiot would still be unconscious outside the meeting room._

Kylo curled his lip in disdain. He wished he could work on his lightsaber but he’d left it in Hux’s rooms.  
  
Tapping his index finger on his thigh, Kylo cursed his restlessness. Come to think of it, he hadn't had anything to eat himself since breakfast and it was well past lunchtime. That meant that Hux probably ought to have a meal as well and —  
  
Kylo shuddered, as if a cold wind had swept through in his quarters. He couldn't shake the connection to Hux, the lingering connection in the back of his mind. Why couldn't he stop thinking about him? Even though the two were co-commanders, they had never been close, let alone friends. They disagreed over almost everything and had only worked together begrudgingly: out of necessity and for the good of the Order.

When Hux inadvertently revealed his insecurities on the way to Snoke’s base, Kylo expected the to be disgusted by the show of weakness, as disgusted as Hux was with himself. But the foreign compulsion to help Hux had surfaced and Kylo hadn’t questioned it at the time. But now…

Kylo sighed and gave up trying to meditate. He needed something to do, he felt too unfocused, he had to go back for his lightsaber. He didn’t owe Hux anything; he should be able to just go back, gather his things, and leave again. Yes, that’s what he was going to do.  
  
Kylo went over to the purifier in the corner of his room and got himself a glass of water. He downed the entire thing in one gulp before leaving for Hux’s quarters, determined not to speak to Hux once he got there. 

* * *

When Kylo arrived, he found Hux’s rooms locked. With a lazy wave of his hand, the doors opened and Kylo stepped inside.

To his relief, Hux wasn't there. Breathing a sigh, Kylo saw his things exactly as he left them on Hux’s desk.  
  
Instead of picking them all up and leaving immediately as he planned to, Kylo found himself resuming his seat and working on it just as he had done that morning. He slotted the power rod terminals into the hilt, frowning as he lined them up. Kylo set his saber down and took the crystal in the palm of his hand. He closed his fingers around it and felt the energy flow through him, calming him. The Force washed over him, like a ripple of water over a pebble. He felt much less agitated but there was still a slight disturbance that Kylo couldn’t place, like something lurking deep beneath the water’s surface.

Kylo did his best to ignore the unsettling feeling and went back to his work.

* * *

Hux would have gone straight back to the summit if his datapad hadn’t reminded him of his blasted check-up. He briefly considered not going to it at all, but he knew that if he didn’t show up, the staff had every right to send their droids to collect him and he’d rather endure torture at the hands of the Resistance than have his crew see him shuffled around the deck by his own machines.

When he arrived, Hux expected a scolding from Maadeia about the fact that he hadn’t filled in her questionnaire as promised, but she seemed pleased that he’d slept and eaten. 

“Now you have two options: I can interview you, or you can complete the questionnaire using your datapad,” Maadeia said.  
  
“I’ll do it on my datapad,” Hux said without hesitating.

“Very well. There are only five questions. I’ll come back in ten minutes.”

Hux opened up the survey. He hadn't done an assessment like this since he was young. _Only five questions?_ Hux thought.  _The last time I did this, there were at least fifteen._  
  
He read the first question: _Do you make yourself sick because you feel uncomfortably full?_  
  
_Shit_.

Hux knew he wouldn’t be able to lie entirely, but he had planned to downplay his symptoms somewhat. That would have been easier if there were more questions. There was no way for him to answer this question without being untruthful because the only options presented to him were ‘Yes’ or ‘No.’  
  
Hux sighed and reluctantly tapped the ‘Yes’ button on his screen. He moved to the next question: _Do you worry you have lost control over how much you eat?_  
  
_Well_ , Hux thought, _that would depend on the circumstances_. He controlled everything and when he lost control, well, he had ways of dealing with that too. But sometimes, he did worry that he had lost control. Because when he loses control, what does he have left? Could he be a General if he can’t even control what he eats for breakfast? His decisions weren’t abstract or theoretical, they had consequences; they cost lives, credits, time.  
  
Hux decided to skip the question and come back to it once he’d done the rest.

The third question asked him if he had lost a certain amount of weight in a recent three-month period.

 _Fuck_. Another question that he couldn’t dodge. Hux could claim not to know his weight and say that he cannot answer the question, but then they’d just check his chart. So that wouldn't work, he had to answer honestly. He tapped ‘Yes,’ defeated, and headed to the next question.

_Do you believe yourself to be fat when others say you are too thin?_

_No,_ Hux thought. He knew exactly what he looked like, he had a mirror. Besides, people didn't comment on his appearance; nobody had told that him he was too thin, not since his Academy days.

Satisfied that he could explain his way out of the question if he needed to, Hux selected ‘No.’

_Would you say that food dominates your life?_

Hux almost laughed. What a ridiculous question! As a General, there were countless other things more important to him than food. Confidently, Hux tapped ‘No.’

Hux swiped back to the question he skipped. He imagined what he would have said to Maadeia had she asked him aloud. _I would have said sometimes, but not enough that it was distressing_ , Hux thought.

To Hux, that was close enough to ‘No,’ for him to answer with that. He looked over his answers again. He only answered in the affirmative twice, which meant that he passed. That should be enough to keep him from too much suspicion.

He submitted the form and checked his messages, hoping for an update from Phasma. When nothing new appeared in his inbox, he sighed. He knew there was no point in asking her for updates; she would have sent him something if anything noteworthy had happened. Or perhaps she was unable to write to him and was waiting for a suitable break in the meeting to do so. Hux told himself there’s nothing to be concerned about.  
  
_Ah, but what if she’s hiding information deliberately?_ The voice asked. _What if she’s whipping High Command right now and they’re plotting together?_

Hux took a breath. Phasma wouldn’t do that to him. He thought back to the way she apologised to him immediately after the base blew up, the shame she had felt and the way that her eyes flashed with rage at how she was overpowered and forced to compromise the Order. The Phasma that he knew, she would never turn on him. She was one of the best he had.  
  
_But what if it’s a ruse?_  The voice persisted. _Of course she’s the best. She has to be, if she wants to take over._  
  
Hux tried to quell his racing paranoia and desperately tried to remember the day he first met Phasma. He had been so impressed that he’d promoted her within the first six months of her assignment to the _Finalizer_. He wouldn’t have said they were friends but he enjoyed her company and valued her insights.

This memory did nothing and against his better judgement, Hux anxiously typed out a message to Phasma asking for a new report.

“Are you finished, sir?”

Maadeia’s voice startled Hux and he sat up straight.

“Yes,” Hux replied.

“Excellent. I’m just going to take a look and then we can talk about your answers.”  
  
Hux nodded silently. He knew what these assessments involved but he was nonetheless hoping to just be able to fill out the survey and leave right after. He looked at the floor while Maadeia read over his answers.

“Thank you, General,” she said, after a few moments. “I see that you have a history of disordered eating and your assessment does suggest a relapse. Furthermore, your chart indicates that you meet the diagnostic criteria.”

“But I passed. I don’t have most of the problems listed,” Hux found himself protesting. He felt like he was back at the Academy, contesting a mark on a test. 

“Sir, the quantity is irrelevant. It’s difficult to quantify these things. The fact of the matter is that your health is suffering and we would like for you to be well. I don’t need to tell you that your position is integral to the Order. But we need you at your best,” Maadeia said.

Hux allowed himself a little smile at the mention of his importance to the Order. He was pleased that Maadeia’s conditioning was perfect. _The Order should be everyone’s priority. The First Order._

But he knew she was right. The word “disorder” echoed in his head like a curse. _Dis-order_. The antithesis of everything the First Order is. He was pathetic. Weak. Disruptive. A detriment to the cause. He couldn't lead like this.

A flicker of hope ignited inside Hux, just as it did when he ate the apple that morning. Dr. Maadeia was correct. Maybe he could get better, maybe he could…

 _Don’t let them fool you,_ the voice said. _You’re almost perfect. Control yourself and everything else will follow._

“Before recently, when was the last time you experienced these symptoms?” Maadeia interjected.

Hux paused. Even during his periods of recovery, if it can be called that, there’d always been the voice, lurking inside him, telling him that he shouldn’t eat _this_ and could only have so much of _that_. As a younger officer, he’d skipped meals during particularly stressful periods and he’d taken long walks when he could, just to get away from everything for a while, but those were normal, as far as he’s concerned. Ever since he can remember, he’s made a daily habit of weighing himself, sometimes multiple times a day. _But that’s important information; everyone ought to know their statistics_ , Hux reasoned.

No, the last time he’d felt and acted this way was when he was at school. A time he’d rather not dwell on.

“In childhood,” Hux said. “When I was about nineteen. And I’d had them since I was… maybe fourteen?”

Maadeia nodded. “How did you deal with that?”

Hux suspected that she already knew; it must be in his file. But for whatever reason, she wanted to hear him say it in his own words. He was growing tired of this, he just wanted to leave. He grit his teeth and sucked in a breath before speaking.

“I was watched. At meal times. They followed me into the fresher to make sure I didn’t… didn’t make myself ill afterwards. They watched me the whole time, even if it took a while, which sometimes, it did.”

“Did they ever talk to you?” Maadeia asked.

Hux gave her a puzzled look. “Sometimes they’d make remarks about what I was eating or how I was eating it,” he said, unsure if he’d answered the question.

“But did they ever ask you how you were feeling?”

“No,” Hux said, suppressing a laugh. “It was a purely practical matter. They did their jobs.”

“Right.” Maadeia made a note in her datapad. “We’ll be taking a different approach this time. You’re in a very different place and—”

“My location is irrelevant,” Hux growled, growing evermore impatient.

Maadeia blinked before she realised what Hux meant. “Oh, I don’t mean your actual location, I mean your mental and emotional state. Not a physical place; the place where your mind is. We’ll be taking an approach that treats both the symptoms and the cause,” she explained. “We can co-ordinate with the kitchen to develop a plan for you so that you’re getting the nutrients you need. We can begin once this summit is done. Additionally, I’m referring you to Dr. Fiorex Dala. They’re a specialist in the field of eating disorders and can provide long-term therapy. Dr. Dala typically practices planetside and will need authorisation to board.”

“Well, I refuse my authorisation. I don’t have time for ‘long-term therapy,’” Hux said. “I appreciate your help, doctor.” Hux got up to leave, his patience exhausted.

“I understand that you’re very busy, sir. As you know, if you don’t grant authorisation then the request is transferred to your superior officer. Since you have no superior, it would fall to someone of equivalent commanding power,” Maadeia explained.

“Ren.” Hux murmured. It would be Ren who received the boarding request. Judging by his concern, Ren would almost certainly grant it and would check to see that Hux was following through with his appointments. That would mean more information that he could weaponise against him and more involvement in Hux’s life and decisions.

But Ren had surprised Hux with his kindness. _Ren_ … Hux felt a stab of guilt for their earlier argument. He’d have to go back and apologise later. He truly did regret his accusations.

“Sir?” Maadeia disrupted Hux’s thoughts.

“Yes?”

“With that understanding, shall I forward the request? In your case, it would be sent to Kylo Ren.”

“No. I’ll sign it. Give it here,” Hux said. It would be unfair of him to make Kylo responsible for him, especially before Hux had the chance to apologise. Hux took Maadeia’s datapad and signed the request form.

“Thank you, General. I’ll be in touch to schedule you with Dr. Dala. In the meantime, please be sure to take your supplements and try to eat at least two full meals each cycle.”  
  
Hux nodded, knowing that he wouldn’t.

“You’re free to go now,” Maadeia says.

Even though Hux had planned to demand they tell him his true weight, the prospect of returning to his room where he won’t be scrutinised like an experiment prevailed. Besides, he could check when he got back to his quarters.

* * *

It was well into the afternoon by the time Hux returned. Kylo startled when he heard the doors hiss open and the General’s familiar footfalls on the floor. He had to stop himself from looking up, from acknowledging Hux’s presence. Kylo half-expected Hux to approach him and apologise again, but Hux strode right past him and into his fresher.  
  
Kylo considered leaving before Hux was done, but that would be a petty move that would serve no purpose other than to upset him.

Snapping the power cell brace into place, Kylo heard running water from inside the fresher. He tried to ignore the sound, but it only heightened his feeling of restless anxiety. Kylo stopped working on the saber for a moment and turned the model over in his hands. _It’s coming along_ , he thought. It shouldn’t be too long until he could add the Kyber crystal and the reserve components.

Without acknowledging Kylo’s presence, Hux exited the fresher, the roots of his hair a little damp from splashing his face. Hux went over to his purifier and got himself a glass of water. In his haste to drink it, he inhaled some and let out an undignified splutter.

In spite of himself, Kylo turned at the sound of Hux’s coughing.

“What?” Hux snapped, regaining his breath.

“Nothing,” Kylo replied, looking away.   
  
Hux swallowed the rest of his water and sighed. “Ren… about earlier…”

Kylo eyed him expectantly and raised an eyebrow.

“I really am sorry,” Hux said, wishing he could think of more to say. How Hux regretted what he said and truly appreciated Ren’s kindness, the first selfless thing that anyone has done for him in years.

“And I wanted to say thank you,” Hux added, embarrassment creeping into his face.

“Thank you for what?” Kylo asked. He knew exactly what, but Hux ought to say it.

“Thank you for bringing me to medbay. And for the food. And for staying here overnight. And for this morning. That’s… nobody else has ever done that for me before,” Hux said. “I know you wouldn’t use your… abilities against me. It’s just that, sometimes, I feel…” Hux trailed off.

“I’m sorry,” Hux repeated.

Kylo smiles warmly, without pride or malice. “I can see that,” he said.

“This thing, this illness, sometimes I think everyone’s trying to take away my control,” Hux blurted out. _Why the fuck did you say that?_ He cursed himself. 

“And that’s not unreasonable,” Kylo said. “You’re in a precarious position. I don’t imagine the rest of High Command is treating you well.”

Hux twitched, but didn't say anything.

“In your position, I would be too,” Kylo finished.  
  
Hux nodded. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“I forgive you,” Kylo said.

“Thank you,” Hux says. He wanted to go to his conservator and get a snack, but according to the schedule, dinner and the final social were happening in about an hour. He ought to make an appearance at least; it would be extremely unbecoming of him not to show.

There were few things he would enjoy less at the moment, but Hux hadn't a choice. Kylo had already expressed his disapproval of Hux going to the meetings but if he went with the intention of eating something, perhaps it he’d object less. The thought of having to eat in front of everyone, especially after his prolonged and badly-explained absence, spiked Hux’s anxiety. They would be looking at him with fake smiles and would mock him, trying to detect a weakness that they could exploit.  
  
It was true; Hux had no friends in High Command. But he did have his own loyal crew, who would also be there. It would be more bearable if they’re around. He could check in with Mitaka and Datoo and Thanisson. And he ought to thank Phasma in person.

And Ren. Of course, it would be rude not to invite Ren. As far as the First Order is concerned, they are of equivalent rank and socialising with Ren is expected. But it would also be reassuring to have him there, Hux thought. He’d already eaten in front of Ren and maybe he could pretend that it was just the two of them and forget about everyone else. Perhaps Ren shared his distaste for High Command and they could dish out some mockery of their own. It might even be _fun_.

“Ren?” Hux asked timorously.

“Hm?”

“I’m going to dinner and to the High Command social this evening. Would you like to join me?” Hux asked, certain that his face had turned bright pink.

Kylo cocked his head to the side. “I thought you said that I “need not be present at the Summit,”” Kylo quipped, quoting Hux’s message from before he went on his mission.

“I did say that, yes,” Hux said, blushing even more. “Which is why you are under no obligation to come. But it’s courteous to extend the invitation,” Hux declared.

Kylo folded his arms and gave Hux a lop-sided smirk. ‘“Courtesy’? Bantha fodder, Hux. You want me there,” he stated.

“Yes, I do,” Hux said with as much confidence as he could muster. He ignored the fact that Kylo didn’t use his title. “I’d appreciate the company,” Hux admitted.

“It would be my pleasure to accompany you,” Kylo said, beaming.

“Excellent,” Hux replied, barely suppressing his delight and trying to keep a straight face. "It's a date."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes
> 
> \- Kylo’s lightsaber jargon comes from [here](http://www.blastr.com/sites/blastr/files/StarWarsTheForceAwakensVisualDictionary.jpgl).  
> \- I got Hux''s questionnaire from [this Teen Vogue article](http://www.teenvogue.com/story/eating-disorder-test-used-by-doctors). There’s also a [a NEDA screening](https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/screening-tool) that I read, but elected not to use for the sake of time.  
> \- I’m thinking about the First Order’s mental health system and I am not sure that they’d even have one in canon? But this is a fic and I can do what I like lmao. If they had a system at all, Hux would get priority.  
> \- I feel like Kylo has very high empathy and Hux probably doesn’t.  
> \- Hux got through the chapter without crying! Please be proud of him. 
> 
>    
> Personal notes
> 
> \- It’s important to me that Hux is difficult to deal with and that Kylo is resentful at times. I’ve done some terribly selfish things myself as a result of this illness and I want to include that side of the story too. I believe that, no matter how sick I am, I am responsible for my actions and their effects on the people around me, especially those who love me. The same is true for Hux and he has to learn that.  
> \- The present tense is awful and I have revised all chapters to be in the past. I will, however, not be doing the same for [Hold On, We’re Going Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7055254/chapters/16038622).  
> \- I am working on the next chapter and although I'm not sure when exactly it will be up, I can promise you that it won't be four months from now.
> 
>  
> 
> **If you or anyone you know is suffering from an eating disorder, I've listed some resources that may help. Although some services are location-specific, many of them also offer information and remote support. I’m on[tumblr](http://thethirstorder.tumblr.com) and I’m available to talk and offer support in whatever way I can.**
> 
>  
> 
> [National Eating Disorders Association](http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/) (NEDA)  
> [The National Association for Males with Eating Disorders](http://namedinc.org/) (NAMED)  
> [National Eating Disorder Information Centre](http://nedic.ca/) (NEDIC)  
> [Eating Disorder Hope](http://www.eatingdisorderhope.com/)  
> [Beat](http://www.b-eat.co.uk/)
> 
> _Please leave a comment if you can. It would mean the world to me. <3_


	6. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux and Kylo go on their "date."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with this story. I know it can be unpleasant at times to read and it means a lot to me that for whatever reason, you keep reading it. I value every single comment, hit, and kudos I get, and I am so thankful for your readership.
> 
> For once, I'm pleased with this chapter, so I hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> **Content warning for in-depth depiction of anxiety and living with an eating disorder. Specific warnings for social anxiety, drinking to the point of drunkenness, alcohol-induced vomiting, blackmail, mention of specific foods, detailed signs of not wanting to eat, and emotional abuse.**

Kylo wasn’t surprised when Hux had told him he couldn’t go dinner in his regular robes and mask, so he opted for a simple black tunic with a high collar, plain black trousers, and an asymmetrical black cape with red lining. Tasteful and in the Order’s colours, but distinctly non-military.

He turned around, admiring his reflection from all angles. His outfit flattered his broad shoulders and narrow waist but it was difficult for him to move as fluidly as he was able in his robes. He was grateful for the cape; he would have felt horribly exposed without it.

Kylo pondered what to do with his hair. It was well-past regulation length and he’d kept it that way ever since he started training with the Supreme Leader. He put it up in a neat bun and frowned at himself in the mirror. That style wouldn’t do; it made his ears look too large. He settled for brushing it neatly and allowing it to frame his face.

He’d never cared much for social functions. Even when they were limited to the crew on the Finalizer, Kylo had declined every invitation. Small talk didn’t interest him and he didn’t drink alcohol, so there was never much for Kylo to do at these kinds of events. But he’d have Hux for company at least. If anything, he could entertain himself with the minds of the High Command members.

Satisfied with his appearance, Kylo headed back to Hux’s quarters.

* * *

Hux grazed his cheeks with the brush and sighed. The extra colour made him look healthier and took attention away from his pallor and dark under-eye circles but he couldn’t shake the idea that it looked horribly fake and glaringly obvious.

Hux combed his hair back into shape and stepped back from his mirror. His eyes flickered, unable to look at himself anymore. He left the fresher and jumped when he saw Kylo sitting nonchalantly on the end of his bed.   
  
“Ah, there you are,” Kylo said. “I was wondering where you’d got to.”

“Just finishing up,” Hux said.  
  
The first thing Kylo noticed was that Hux was wearing one of the grey uniforms he’d seen in Hux’s closet that morning. He was right; the uniform complemented his hair but washed out his complexion horribly. But if the colour painted on Hux’s face was anything to go by, the General was painfully aware of that.

“Ren. Your choice of attire is commendable,” Hux said flatly.

Kylo grinned.

“You could just say that I look good,” said Kylo, winking.  
  
Hux blushed darker than the powder he’d just applied, which made Kylo smirk. “It seems you don’t need that blusher, General,” he said.

“Is it that noticeable?”

“Not really,” Kylo mumbled, regretting his comment. “It looks nice.”  
  
Hux would’ve riposted with a quip about Kylo’s comparatively messy hair but decided against it, not wishing to give Ren more opportunities to comment on his appearance. Instead, he rolled his eyes at Kylo and asked if he was ready to leave.  
  
“As ready as ever,” Kylo replied.

“Let’s go.”

Kylo stepped aside, letting Hux lead the way. As they walked, Kylo noticed that he was clenching his fists, not unlike the way that Hux always did. Kylo uncurled his fingers and flexed them. He felt tension in his shoulders and wished he had thought to do some stretching before getting dressed up. He clasped his hands behind his back to try and stop himself from fidgeting. Kylo took several deep breaths as quietly as he could, wishing it were socially acceptable for him to wear his mask to this function.

He glanced over at Hux, who was walking with his typical stiff gait. Hux didn’t seem to be any more anxious than usual. Kylo had always resented Hux’s ability to socialise and make it look effortless. In his head, Kylo went over some of the questions he had thought up while he was getting ready _._ Kylo imagined himself having a conversation with another General or Admiral.  _“Which vessel do you command? Oh, lovely! I heard the Order is developing precision-guided turbolasers for that craft. And what projects are you working on? Ah, that sounds highly impressive. How is it going? Excellent, glad to hear it!_  

Kylo hoped that someone would want to talk about their own command vessel. If there was one topic he knew about, it was starships. As a boy, Kylo had been obsessed with them, covering his bedroom walls with blueprints of his favourite ships, keeping up with the latest manufacturing trends for as many models as there were stars in the sky. He’d always wanted Han to bring him along on his “missions,” but Han always said he had to go alone. 

“Ren?” Hux’s voice pulled Kylo from his thoughts. “We’re here.”

Kylo’s heart sped up and he could feel his palms sweating. At least he was wearing gloves so he wouldn’t have to worry about giving a moist handshake. With another deep breath, he followed Hux to the deck.

“Right. I don’t know about you, but I need a drink,” Hux said, heading straight for the bar.

“I’ll just have water,” Kylo said. 

“Suit yourself,” Hux shrugged. “I’ll get both.” 

Kylo looked around the room. He spotted Phasma, also helmetless. He wanted to call her over but didn’t know how to do that without waving awkwardly. He saw Mitaka, in a corner with Unamo and Thanisson. He accidentally looked Mitaka right in the eye and Mitaka quickly looked away, sending a ripple of guilt through Kylo. He’d never figured out how to apologise to the Lieutenant for choking him.  _What does one say in that situation?_  Kylo thought.  _“Hi, sorry I choked you that one time. I can’t promise I won’t do it again but rest assured that it was nothing personal”?_

By now, it was too late for an apology; poor Mitaka had done his best to avoid Kylo after that.

Hux came back from the bar and handed Kylo a glass of water and he drank half of it in one go. Kylo looked at the deep amber liquid in Hux’s glass.

“What’d you get?”

“Scotch.”

“Oh,” Kylo said, realising too late that he didn’t have anything to say in response. “I don’t drink,” he said.

“You’ve never wanted to, or…?”

“Never wanted to,” Kylo said. “I just didn’t find it appealing. It’s also customary for us — the Knights — to abstain anyway,” Kylo added, finishing his water.

“Fair enough, Hux said, raising his glass.

“I’m going to get more water,” Kylo said.

“Would you get me another Scotch?”

“You haven’t finished that one.”

“I will have by the time you get back.”

“All right.”

Hux strode over to the large viewport and sighed. It was going to be a long night. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining his absence to everyone who would find some way of asking. He finished his drink and set it aside.

“Ah, General Hux. How gracious of you to join us,” said a familiar voice, dripping with sarcasm. Hux didn’t need to turn around to know it was Orikan, but for courtesy’s sake, he turned anyway.

“General Orikan,” Hux said, nodding curtly.

“Ironic, isn’t it? That this vessel has the best purifiers and the largest water rations in the First Order, only for its commander to faint from dehydration,” Orikan said, a smile playing about his lips. 

“The irony is not lost on me,” Hux said, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. 

“One might even say it’s improbable.” Orikan paused. “I wonder what the Supreme Leader would say if he knew.”

Hux felt sweat prickling at the back of his neck and he clenched both hands into fists. Orikan may not know what exactly was going on with Hux, but he didn’t need to. The implication that he was in any way unfit for combat and leadership was dangerous. And this summit was supposed to be his solution, a chance to prove that he was still worthy of command. Hux couldn’t afford to have more reasons for Snoke to doubt him. Plus, Hux felt that death would be preferable to explaining his condition to the Supreme Leader.

“I can’t say I’m particularly curious about that,” Hux said.

“We may find out regardless,” Orikan said.

“Sorry about the wait,” Kylo said, appearing behind Hux. “The bar’s getting busy.”

“Thank you,” Hux said, taking the glass. “General Orikan, this is my co-commander, Kylo Ren. Ren, General Orikan. He works aboard the Star Destroyer  _Vengeance_ with Admiral Gundaro _,_ ” gesturing towards a lively woman with a wine glass in her hand, laughing with a group across the room.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Kylo said as they shook hands.

“The pleasure is all mine. You’re doing a grand service to the Order, ensuring our General here doesn’t die of thirst,” Orikan said, clapping a hand on Hux’s shoulder. Hux tensed and inhaled sharply through his nose.  

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Have a nice evening, gentlemen,” Orikan said, with one last icy smile in Hux’s direction.

Hux waited until Orikan was out of earshot. “That man is a complete dweezer,” he said to Kylo.

“Yeah, from the little bit I heard, he doesn’t seem to like you much.” 

Hux chuckled. “That applies to most people on this deck. Orikan is something else.”

“It doesn’t apply to me,” Kylo said. “And what do you mean, he’s something else?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean I don’t  _not_ like you.”

“You could even say you liked me,” Hux said, lifting the corners of his mouth ever so slightly. Not a smile, but warm nonetheless.

“I tolerate you,” Kylo said, and winked. “But what was that about Orikan?”

“I’ll tell you later. It must be almost dinnertime. Let’s sit down,” Hux said in low tones, leading Kylo to their seats, deliberately as far away from Orikan as possible.

The kitchen droids brought out their food. Kylo knew he shouldn’t watch Hux while he was eating but he couldn’t help but steal a glance from the corner of his eye.

Hux was uncharacteristically quiet, slicing up his dinner into miniscule pieces as though it was his job to cut each piece to a standard size.  _Like a manufacturer_ , Kylo thought, as he ate his own portion. To his relief, he saw Hux spear a chunk of asparagus and swallow it. Kylo sent a silent prayer to the Force that Hux would finish it all and keep it down.

“Are you enjoying it?” Hux asked, pointing to Kylo’s plate.

“Yes. It’s excellent. You did well. I think it would be good for morale if we ate like this all the time,” Kylo said.

“Come back to me with all the credits I spent on this, plus more for the rest of our lives, not to mention the officers, staff, and troopers on board, and then we’ll talk,” Hux replied. “I’m half-joking,” he said after a pause.

“That means you’re half serious.”

“I’m not… opposed to improving the standard rations. Were it not for financial limitations, I would consider it.”

“Just admit that I’m right for once,” Kylo said.

“Never.”

“Pffft.” 

“I should make an address,” Hux murmured.

“An excuse to hear the sound of your own voice?”

“No,” Hux snapped, more irritably than he intended. “I’d actually much rather not, but I’m the host and I’ve missed most of it. It’s a formality.” He stood up and leaned against the back of his chair for support, and tapped his glass with his dessertspoon. The chatter gradually stopped and all the attention on deck turned to Hux.

“I’d like to say a few words. I mean that: I’ll be brief. You’ll be able to hear my more lengthy pieces when you’re back on your own facilities,” said Hux to scattered laughter. That was better than no laughter.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming. Having the most capable leaders, the sharpest minds in the Galaxy, here aboard the  _Finalizer_ , has been a delight. I thank you for your insightful amendments to my proposal and for your most wise decision to approve it,” Hux said with a grin. His audience received him with more laughter.  _Good_. 

“I would also like to congratulate my designate, Captain Phasma,” Hux said, gesturing towards Phasma at the other end of the table. She did not smile, but she nodded brusquely. “She far exceeded the expectations of her duties during my unprecedented absence. She is an example of the ideal servant of the First Order: intelligent, driven, and loyal.”

“Return to your bases with those values in mind. Inspire and cultivate them in your crew, with your own actions. Today, we have charted a new path to victory, and tomorrow: we take it. To the glory of the First Order.” Hux finished with a salute, which everyone else mirrored.

Hux breathed a small sigh of relief as the chatter rose up once more. He hated improvising, but he wouldn’t be High Command’s most broadcasted if he were any less than brilliant.

“Not bad, considering you winged it,” Kylo said as Hux sat down again.

“That’s because nothing I do is ever ‘bad,’ Ren.”

“Well…” Ren began, raising an eyebrow.

“That one time on Lir doesn’t… doesn’t count.”

“I didn’t even think about that. I was thinking about the time you caused our ship to crash.”

“You were the one who blew all the fuses,” Hux corrected. 

“But you started the argument that resulted in that,” Ren defended.

“That was also you! You asked me to tell you why I was angry and I did, so you’d shut up. I didn’t promise that you’d like the answer,” Hux shrugged. “Just admit that I’m right for once?”

“Never,” said Kylo. 

* * *

Hux toyed with the remains of his dinner, leaving glistening trails on his plate as though he were a child drawing with a crayon.  _I could get away with claiming to have eaten half of it_ , Hux thought to himself. He’d only eaten about a third of his meal. He put his knife and fork together and pushed the plate away. The voice neither congratulated him nor chastised him; either way, Hux was grateful for its silence.

“You’re done?” Kylo asked, frowning at the leftovers.

“Yes.”

“Hux. I know this is hard for you—” 

“Shut up!” Hux lowered his voice to a hoarse, angry whisper. “You stupid rankweed-sucker! Do you honestly think this is the time or place for this conversation? Look at where we are!” Had they not been in public, Hux was sure he would’ve smacked Kylo in the face, hard.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m doing my kriffing best,” he said, still at a whisper. “And that’s everything I know how to do.” Hux got up, shoved his chair back pointedly, and stalked off towards the bar. 

Kylo stayed in his seat, shaking. He kept his head down but his eyes darted frantically around the deck. The anxiety that had built up in him on his way over skyrocketed and his Force-sensitivity was harder to manage. He could hear every voice in the space, the clinking of cutlery like thunder, the shuffling of bodies. Worst of all, it felt as though everyone was looking at him: the outsider without a rank or uniform. The outsider who caused problems no matter what his intentions.

Kylo blinked back hot tears of frustration. He had to get out before Hux came back. It was a mistake to accept Hux’s invitation, all Kylo had done was make a scene in front of High Command. Kylo got up and walked away, keeping his steps as even as he could.

* * *

Hux finished his fourth drink, scowling. That tactless, karking, son-of-a-bantha Ren. How could he think it was appropriate to bring that up here?

Hux glanced around the room. He’d exchanged pleasantries with some of the delegates but he hadn’t done as much socialising as he should have done, but he was past caring at this point. All these people would be off his ship come morning.

A familiar discomfort welled up inside him and Hux reflexively moved his hands to his stomach, panic shooting through him. No, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, he hadn’t even planned to make himself ill after dinner. He couldn’t be sick, not in front of High Command, not again. 

_You moron. You’re not ill: you’re drunk._

Right, that must be it. Thinking that perhaps this was the first rational thing that the voice had told him since it came back, Hux made his way to the nearest refresher.

From across the room, General Orikan watched him leave.

* * *

Hux nearly tripped through the fresher door. If he could just make it to the stall, he would be fine. He stumbled over and got himself in position before he was sick. Foggily, Hux thought that he’d done a decent job at not getting it everywhere. He was getting better at this.

After several more rounds of vomiting, Hux thought he was done. He went to look at himself in the mirror but there was already someone in front of it. He looked up; it was Ren.

Kylo looked like he had been crying, eyes wet and swollen. Hux opened his mouth to say something but his gag reflex kicked in again and he vomited afresh all over the floor. He looked down in horror and then looked back up at Kylo.

“Ren. I — I wasn’t — I didn’t mean—” Hux’s eyes went wide and he clapped both hands to his mouth. Kylo put his hand on Hux’s lower back and gently nudged him back into the stall and closed the door behind him. Kylo winced as he heard Hux throw up again.

Several moments passed — Kylo couldn’t tell how long it was, but Hux finally emerged from the stall, looking very sheepish. He shuffled over to the sink and washed his face and hands, wiping himself dry with his uniform sleeve.

“I feel a lot better now,” Hux croaked.

“That makes one of us,” Kylo said bitterly.

“I’m sorry, Ren. It was unfair of me to call you names. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and I — frankly, I don’t deserve it. And you don’t deserve this,” he said, pointing to the mess on the floor. “You could do so much better.”

Kylo shook his head. “I’m trying to help you. How many times are you going to do this, Hux? How many times are you going to say ‘sorry’ before you actually mean it?”

Hux looked away. “I know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know. I can’t keep doing this. But I mean it this time. I can’t — this is no way to live. I don’t want to live like this anymore. It’s not fair to the Order. It’s not fair to you.” Hux said. 

“Well… it’s not exactly fair to you either,” said Kylo.

“I take that back —  _I’m_  the one who could do better, not you. Here, I’ll admit it. You were right, Kylo Ren, you were right!” Hux shouted. Kylo shushed him, knowing that someone else could walk in on them any minute.

“Sometimes I do bad things. Maybe I haven’t been doing my best. But I want to be. I want to be better. So I’m going to try,” Hux continued.

Kylo nodded. “Try what?”

“I’ll keep my appointments. I’ll go to therapy. I’ll do it,” Hux finished, crossing his arms and sticking his nose in the air like he’d just won a game of Dejarik. “I promise.”

Kylo shook his head again. “You’re drunk. We’ll talk about this later.”

“I’m not  _that_  drunk,” Hux said.

“You must be, if you’re admitting that I was right,” Kylo said. Hux laughed weakly.

“Look at this mess I’ve made. Let me clean that up.” Hux knelt down and tried to use toilet paper to mop up the vomit, but to no avail. Kylo lifted a finger lazily and floated the mess into the trash compactor.

“I’ve never been so disgusted and impressed at the same time,” Hux said.

“You’re  _definitely_  drunk if you’re complimenting me. Though I must say, if you’re trying to convince me of the virtues of alcohol…”

Hux swatted at him playfully. “Let’s go back to my quarters and clean ourselves up. I think your lightsaber is still there too. I never did ask you how that was going.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

“Oh, and Ren?”

“Hm?”

“Would it be all right with you if I — if I were to — ah, I’m not sure how to put this — would it be all right if I embraced you momentarily?” Hux asked.

Kylo rolled his eyes and pulled Hux into a tight hug, not caring about the gross mix of fluids that Hux would get all over his best formal clothes. He could wash out the stains later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes:  
> \- The incidents that Kylo and Hux talk about when Hux claims he never did anything “bad” are from [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6607543/chapters/15117187) and [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7055254/chapters/16038622) respectively.  
> \- Next chapter: drama and a sub-plot, plus more Phasma and Mitaka!
> 
> Personal notes:  
> \- I don’t drink for medical reasons, but Hux’s experience of getting drunk mirrors mine in the days when I used to. I get drunk very quickly but once I’m sick, I sober up almost immediately.  
> \- I don’t know anything about alcohol. I chose Scotch because it’s a James Bond drink that isn’t a martini.
> 
> **If you or anyone you know is suffering from an eating disorder, I've listed some resources that may help. Although some services are location-specific, many of them also offer information and remote support. I’m on[tumblr](http://thethirstorder.tumblr.com) and I’m available to talk and offer support in whatever way I can.**
> 
> [National Eating Disorders Association](http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/) (NEDA)  
> [The National Association for Males with Eating Disorders](http://namedinc.org/) (NAMED)  
> [National Eating Disorder Information Centre](http://nedic.ca/) (NEDIC)  
> [Eating Disorder Hope](http://www.eatingdisorderhope.com/)  
> [Beat](http://www.b-eat.co.uk/)
> 
> If you could take a moment to let me know what you thought about this chapter, I would love that! Thank you again ♡


	7. Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitaka and Phasma foil a plot to discredit Hux. Please note that there are spoilers for PHASMA in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise that it’s been a long time. I am so sorry. Sometimes life gets real and it means I can't write as fast as I would like, but we are nearly at the end. I appreciate you waiting for me more than I can express. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this fic. Thank you for giving me the space to write about mental illness and for letting me feel heard. 
> 
> Please note that there are spoilers for PHASMA in this chapter. 
> 
> **Content warning for in-depth depiction of anxiety and living with an eating disorder. Specific warnings for explicit descriptions of emaciation and struggling with food rituals.**

General Orikan watched Hux make his clumsy exit. As amusing as it was to watch that slimy sycophant leave his own party early, it was a small clue. He and Hux had crossed paths several times before this, which had given Orikan plenty of opportunities to observe the young General: everything from mundane mannerisms to telling signs of anxiety. If the events of the past two days were anything to go by, all signs pointed to Hux covering up a weakness.

Orikan had his suspicions. There was nothing incriminating in having a chronic illness, but lying about it proved Hux had something to hide. Orikan knew that the dehydration story was nonsense; he just had to find enough proof to send to the Supreme Leader.

Hux may have weaselled his way into the Supreme Leader’s favour, but it would be difficult for even Snoke to ignore hard evidence that proved Hux unfit for command.

Yes, it was time to expose Hux for what he was: self-interested, incompetent, and ultimately a detriment to the Order. And when he did, he was sure the Supreme Leader would reward him in gratitude. He might even expel Hux from High Command and reassign the _Finalizer_ to someone more suitable.

Orikan looked at his chrono — it read 22:10. It may be his last night on board the _Finalizer_ , but that was still plenty of time to hatch and execute a plan.

* * *

At some point during their walk back, Hux’s right hand had somehow found its way into Kylo’s left and neither of them had commented on it. Kylo knew Hux was right-handed and so was bemused when Hux kept hold of Kylo and opened the door with his left. Kylo allowed himself a small smile.

Vomiting aside, drunk Hux was most agreeable. 

Hux led him to the bed and Kylo perched on the edge, as he was accustomed to doing.

“I’m going in the sonic,” Hux announced, walking straight to his fresher. “I won’t be long.”

Kylo shrugged. “Guess I’ll wait here,” he said.

As soon as Hux shut the door, Kylo took off his cape and unfastened his tunic to inspect the damage. As he expected, there were several crusty stains from where Hux had hugged him after throwing up. Those could be cleaned later.

He folded his top and put it next to Hux’s bedside table. Kylo got up and gathered his lightsaber components, bringing them over to Hux’s bed. Maybe if he sat here quietly and meditated in Hux’s rooms, in Hux’s presence, he’d get closer to the truth about why he could suddenly feel Hux through the Force. The answer could be there: instead of trying to push all thoughts of Hux out of his head, he might get further if he incorporated them.

Kylo closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. He took the crystal in his hand and held it, just as his fingers had closed around Hux’s hand moments ago. It was as quiet as the stars and Kylo could hear nothing but the sound of his own steady breaths. He focused on the movement of the Force through him and Hux. He thought he could reach out and touch it, like a cloud of steam.

It was, in fact, a cloud of steam. Hux walked towards him, hair wet and skin pink. He was wearing loose black pyjamas that looked at least two sizes too big for him. Kylo knew better than to say anything. With all his makeup scrubbed off and no structured clothes to hide behind, Hux looked pitifully frail. Kylo wouldn’t have been surprised if he could fit one of Hux’s thighs in his hands with both thumbs touching. He didn’t suppose Hux would be keen to test that theory.

“The fresher’s free if you want it,” said Hux, getting himself some water.

Kylo heaved himself off Hux’s bed, just as Hux caught sight of Kylo’s bare chest and looked away bashfully, hoping that he hadn’t noticed.

Hux had always been envious of his co-commander’s body, his battle-hardened skin and sculpted muscles. It was the kind of body he ought to have had, but instead he had been cursed with the weak form he occupied now. Perhaps if he looked more like Kylo, his father would have been proud of him.

 _But more than likely_ not, Hux knew. He would never be good enough, or good at all.

He sighed and idly picked up a copper wire from Kylo’s work and threaded it between his fingers. From what he could tell, the lightsaber was coming along nicely. He wondered how much more Kylo had to do. He could see it taking on its shape and could see the logic behind the way the internal components fit together.

A low growl emitted from Hux’s stomach. Hux sighed. He would have to eat something because he’d lost everything he ate when he was sick at the social.  
  
_Well, go on_ , Hux told himself. He had committed to getting better and that would involve eating. But he didn’t budge. He couldn’t make himself move. _But you’ve come so far,_ the voice hissed. _Why would you want to stop now? Do you want to lose control all over again?_

Many a time, Hux had been unable to think of an answer. But this time, the words came to him as though he’d memorised them for a speech.  
  
“Because I deserve to,” Hux murmured aloud.

* * *

The throbbing in Mitaka’s head had lessened somewhat since getting to medbay. Everything had been going so well until a careless drunken Admiral had tripped into him, sending them both flying and Mitaka’s head collided with the edge of a table. He didn’t appreciate being stuck in medbay, but at least he was allowed to keep his comlink and datapad and he was given all the opportunity to catch up on the rest that he’d missed over the summit.

He knew he’d be out by morning; they just wanted to keep him overnight to make sure he didn’t have a concussion. He’d tried reading on his datapad but the glare from the screen made his headache worse.

Mitaka sighed and leaned back on his pillows. He closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep but it was no good. Plus, there was something else bothering him: he thought he heard voices talking in low tones across the ward. He put his hands over his ears to check that he wasn’t imagining it: he wasn’t.

Mitaka knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but there was little else for him to do. Besides, who was having a conversation in the officers’ ward in the middle of the night? There was the night ward for that. He listened in. 

“Sir, I understand your concern, but I absolutely will not do that. It violates doctor-patient confidentiality,” said a high, clipped voice. “Besides, it is a breach of seven First Order protocols, five of which are universal and two of which apply on this ship only.”

Someone was breaking protocol? Mitaka made a mental note of this and decided to listen further.

“If you give me the data file, I will see to it that you are recognised for your part and are rewarded accordingly.” The gruff voice sounded familiar but Mitaka couldn’t place it immediately. 

“With all due respect, sir, I do not want a reward,” the high, clipped voice replied. Mitaka recognised the voice now, it was Dr Maadeia, the officers’ ward supervisor.

“The Supreme Leader—”

“General Orikan, if you do not desist, I shall have no choice but to call the troops to escort you out,” Maadeia said.

General Orikan! Mitaka remembered him for being particularly vocal at all the sessions. Though they hadn’t been at the same sessions all the time, Mitaka had noticed that not once had Orikan said a word of praise or support to anyone at all. All his comments had been critical, and he hadn’t had any of his own ideas, as far as Mitaka could recall.

Orikan paused. “If you won’t do it for yourself, you’ll do it for the good of the Order,” he said. 

“For the good of the Order...” Maadeia repeated.

“Yes, doctor. We’ve already discussed this. Your duty is to the Order, not to yourself.”

Mitaka wished he could see what was going on. What did Maadeia have that Orikan wanted so badly?

After a short pause, Maadeia spoke up again. “I suppose you are correct, General. It must be the Order above everything. I will copy the file for you. ”

“Send it directly to my datapad.”

“Our systems are not designed for information sharing outside of the medbay network. I will have to make a copy.”

“Be quick about it.” 

“Yes, sir. Remember that these are General Hux’s personal medical records and you should only use them for the purpose you have stated.”

“Of course, doctor.”

“Here.” Maadeia held out a data chip.

Orikan took it and turned on his heel, walking out of the facility without so much as a thank you or farewell. Mitaka waited until his footsteps had receded before carefully sliding off his bed, putting a hand to his temple as he did so. He crept as quietly as possible to the ward fresher and opened the faucet, letting the water run.

He took out his comlink and tried to engage Hux’s frequency. “General Hux,” Mitaka said. “General, are you there?” Several moments passed and Mitaka couldn’t get a return signal. His channel must be offline.

Cursing, Mitaka switched channels.

“This is Lieutenant Mitaka. Captain, are you there?” 

There was a crackle on the other end of the line. “Lieutenant.” Mitaka almost sighed with relief when he heard Phasma’s voice.

“I’m in the medbay and I saw one of the doctors, the officers’ ward supervisor, hand over General Hux’s medical records to General Orikan,” Mitaka said. “He has them on a data chip and it’s definitely unauthorised. I tried to comm General Hux myself but I was unable to reach him.”

“When was this?”

“General Orikan just left.”

“I will intercept him. Bring the ward supervisor to the holding cells. And send an alert marked ‘urgent’ to General Hux’s datapad if you cannot reach him via the comm channel.”   

“Yes, sir,” Mitaka said.

“Good. Phasma out.”

Phasma ended the conversation and Mitaka wasted no time in shutting off the water and letting himself out. He opened the fresher door and jumped a foot in the air when he found himself face to face with Dr Maadeia.

* * *

By chance, Captain Phasma was only a couple of sectors away from General Orikan’s quarters when Mitaka commed her. Immediately, she changed her course, taking the most direct route to his rooms. She peeked around the corner and heard the Orikan’s unmistakable heavy tread. 

Taking down an old, soft general would be no problem; she’d done it once before. The memory of Brendol Hux’s murder made her smile beneath the mask. Hux had been so pleased when he heard the news of Brendol’s unexplained illness and thoroughly bizarre aqueous disintegration. It had been the event that solidified Hux and Phasma’s allyship all those years ago.

Orikan’s footsteps drew nearer and Phasma prepared to strike. Just as Orikan was about to enterin his access code, Phasma punched him in the face, knocking him off balance and sending him crashing to the ground. Phasma took hold of his arms and dragged him over to a corner. She stood over him for a few moments for the intimidation factor before crouching down to his eye level.

“Give me the data chip,” Phasma ordered. Though he outranked her, she knew she would face no penalty for this.

Orikan was red in the face from humiliation or surprise. Phasma hoped it was both.

“I have no idea what you are talking about. Unhand me, Stormtrooper,” Orikan spat.

Phasma didn’t reply. She was not here to negotiate. Instead, she punched him again, harder this time. Phasma delighted in the crunch of bone beneath her chrome knuckles.

The last thing Orikan saw before he blacked out was his own bloodied face reflected in Phasma’s armour.

* * *

“Ah, there you are, lieutenant,” Maadeia said. “I was wondering where you had gone.” 

Mitaka stood in the fresher doorway, dumbstruck. How could she continue as though nothing had happened? _Quick_ , Mitaka thought to himself. _I have to act now_.

Mitaka cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and did his best to sound authoritative. “Doctor Maadeia,” he began, “I am suspending you from your duties and will escort you to the holding cells this instant,” Mitaka said.

Maadeia blinked. “Excuse me?”

Kriff. Mitaka had forgotten to tell her why. “We have received a report alleging that you breached First Order protocol,” he said. “Now come with me.” Mitaka had to stop himself from adding a “please” to the end of his command.

“I would never break protocol. I am a loyal servant of the Order. There is nothing more important to me than our success. I have attended to my duties with nothing but the utmost care and diligence. You must be mistaken,” Maadeia pleaded.

Mitaka’s face fell. He hated unnecessary conflict. “I’m sorry doctor, but these are my orders. If it is true that you have done nothing wrong, you have nothing to worry about. Now come with me, please.”

Maadeia sighed and allowed Mitaka to lead her away.

* * *

Hux and Kylo lay side-by-side in Hux’s bed, so close that Hux could have rested his head on Kylo’s shoulder if both of them were inclined. Kylo had finished in the sonic and brought Hux his food.

Hux tore a piece off his 12-grain bread slice and cautiously dipped it into hummus. He sniffed it before he put it to his lips and took a small bite. The hummus was more flavourful than he remembered, garlic and lemon and oil dancing on his tongue. It was far better then the greyish paste that the _Finalizer_ usually served.

He offered some to Kylo, who shook his head.

“I had dinner. You didn’t,” Kylo said. “You should eat.”

Hux knew Kylo was right. He dipped his bread into the hummus again and found himself counting the number of times he chewed it. He swallowed on the count of four. Panic began to rise inside him and Hux put down the bread.

 _Now look what you’ve done_ , said the voice. _Do you see yourself? You’ve undone weeks of progress. Look at you, stuffing your face._

“Shut up,” Hux said aloud.

“I didn’t say anything,” said Kylo, miffed.

“Not you. I was talking to myself.”

“Oh.”

Hux was silent for several moments. Kylo could see the concentration on his face, as though Hux were composing a speech right in front of him. Hux took a deep breath.

“It’s… I’m not sure how… I… it’s like there’s this — this voice,” Hux began, feeling more stupid by the word. “It feels like there’s someone telling me that I shouldn’t eat.” Hux paused. “That I don’t deserve to. That I’m undisciplined if I do. I’m not making much sense…”

Hux looked downcast.

Kylo nodded solemnly.

“I don’t want to hear it anymore. I want it to shut up forever and never say another word,” said Hux. “But I don’t know how to live without it.”

Kylo pulled Hux closer in response. “You’ll learn to live without it. Don’t listen to it. Listen to me instead,” he said. “You should eat that,” he said, pointing to the piece of bread Hux had been working on.

Hux nodded. “I know.” In one swift movement, Hux picked it up and ate it, grimacing as though he were swallowing a pill. It tasted so good, but felt so awful. He was about to cut himself another slice when a buzz from Hux’s datapad interrupted him. Hux reached over to his bedside table and read the message, frowning.

A sick, anxious feeling crept into Hux’s heart, his palms breaking into a cold sweat. With shaking hands, he typed a hasty reply. 

Hux turned to Ren. “I have to leave. There’s been a security breach that requires my immediate attention,” he said, putting a long black robe on over his pyjamas.

“It’s the middle of the night. It can wait. Come back to bed,” Kylo said.

“No it can’t.”

“Hux—”

“It concerns me personally. I’ll deal with it. You stay here. I’ll be back soon,” Hux said shortly. “I’ll explain when I get back,” Hux said. With that, Hux slipped on his boots even though they looked ridiculous with his robe and pyjamas, and left. 

Kylo put Hux’s food back in the conservator and returned to his lightsaber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes:
> 
> \- I began this fic before PHASMA, the Phasma comic series and The Last Jedi had been released. It is compliant with PHASMA but not with TLJ or the comics.  
> \- I may go back and edit it to comply with the comic series.
> 
> Personal notes:
> 
> \- Maybe this incident is a bit ridiculous but a similar thing happened to me once. Not with the stealing of records, but someone did threaten to disclose my ED to people with authority over me, with the intent of proving I was unfit to participate in an activity and it absolutely sucked. So of course that means I have to make Hux suffer.
> 
>  
> 
> _It would mean a lot to me if you would leave a comment telling me what you thought of this chapter. Again, I apologise for the delay._

**Author's Note:**

> **If you or anyone you know is suffering from an eating disorder, I've listed some resources that may help. Although some services are location-specific, many of them also offer information and remote support. I’m on[tumblr](http://thethirstorder.tumblr.com) and I’m available to talk and offer support in whatever way I can.**
> 
>  
> 
> [National Eating Disorders Association](http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/) (NEDA)  
> [The National Association for Males with Eating Disorders](http://namedinc.org/) (NAMED)  
> [National Eating Disorder Information Centre](http://nedic.ca/) (NEDIC)  
> [Eating Disorder Hope](http://www.eatingdisorderhope.com/)  
> [Beat](http://www.b-eat.co.uk/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Repression, Displacement... Undoing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9243572) by [skydork (klismaphilia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/klismaphilia/pseuds/skydork)




End file.
